The Distance Between Us
by Unproper Grammar
Summary: After he writes a meaningful message in her yearbook, Gabriella Montez makes the impulsive move to follow Troy Bolton two-thousand miles to New York University. Only problem? They've barely spoken. T
1. You Will Remember This Moment

Okay, so this is my next project and my first try at a really EPIC Troyella. :) It's based on JJ Abram's show from the nineties, 'Felicity' which I very highly recommend. However, the only similarities will be in this chapter and the next and then the story will take it's own route.

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**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter One: You Will Remember This Moment_

---

"Mr. Bolton. Care to give the answer to question fourteen?"

"Uh," the boy replied. "Um, not really."

Laughter rang through the classroom and I felt a smile slip onto my face and my heart skip a beat. Anyone else and I would have rolled my eyes to the heavens, this boy? This boy could do no wrong.

Besides, he provided such a wonderful distraction during these long revision sessions that were becoming the norm as exams and graduation creeped upon us.

"Miss. Montez?" a voice asked, and my eyes darted away from the back of the boy's head, feeling my face flush at being exposed. Glancing around the classroom, I noticed twenty odd pairs of eyes staring at me, including his, and I felt mortified.

It wasn't that I was bored in class. It was more that I was _dead_ in class. The whole idea of school had become so draining these past few months and the distracting qualities of certain classmates were certainly proving to be far more interesting than the chapter questions for my biology assignment.

My teacher, Mr. Masterson stared at me with a peculiar expression on his face. It was so unlike me to just zone out the way I had, but what else was I to do? I knew the material, anyway.

"The answer to question fourteen, Miss. Montez," he said, and I could see the gears working in his head trying to figure out why I was so unfocused these past few weeks.

Feeling panicked, I looked down at my textbook, frantically searching for the question so I could pull the answer out of thin air. I heard someone giggle and my cheeks burst into flames. This wasn't even remotely amusing! This happened all the time! Why was it funny all of a sudden?

Finally locating the question, I looked back up and met my teacher's concerned eyes. "The stimulation of cell division made the chemicals effective weed killers because they cause uncontrollable, unsustainable growth. This means that the plant is spending all its energy and nutrients to grow new cells at the expense of the old cells. The old cells now have no energy or materials to maintain themselves or repair themselves, causing the plant to die," I took a deep breath, relaxing, knowing that my answer was right and that it was clearly just a momentary relapse on my part. "So it essentially causes the plant to spend all its energy on growth and not on the essential functions of life."

Mr. Masterson nodded and turned back to the chalk board, scribbling something on the board. My heart-rate slowed and the colour on my cheeks slowly dissolved as everyone returned to the previously scheduled program. I glanced back down at my notebook and tried to remain focused on the next question, despite the urges I had to look back up and resume what I had been doing prior the interruption.

But the urge would not go away and I swallowed, feeling very uncomfortable. My eyes forced themselves up, despite my better judgement, and I came face to face with Troy Bolton.

He was turned around slightly in his seat and gazing at me with the strangest look I've ever received. I flushed such a dark shade of crimson that I almost felt dizzy. His eyes looked straight into mine, but he did not look away. He did not smile at me nor he did not say anything.

He just stared and I counted the seconds that passed by before he finally turned around.

I let my head smash onto my desk. I was such a dork and he was probably thinking those exact words right now.

"You all right, Miss. Montez?" Mr. Masterson asked again and I resisted the urge to hurl my textbook at him.

---

You know how people always talk about things to tell the grandkids? Like when they meet their one true love, they always joke that they'll have to tell the grandkids. Or if they do something really remarkable, really memorable, you say it's 'something to tell the grandkids'.

I don't really have anything to tell my grandkids, if I ever do have any. At least, nothing about my high school years. I've done nothing remarkable nor has any of it been very memorable. After realizing that to stand out in high school meant really putting yourself out there in ninth grade, I made the decision of blending into the crowd instead.

The result was many a lonely night spend at home and very few friends on Facebook. It's not to say there wasn't girls I talked to in classes or that people didn't know me. There were people who knew me, people who knew Gabriella Montez, the shy math nerd. Having no real high school memories to speak of was certainly near the top of my lists of regrets stemming from four years of social hell.

The regret that topped the list and remains to do so until this day is that I was one to those girls. You know, the ones who spent years lusting over a boy who they had barely (if ever) spoken to? Yeah, I was one of them. For the entire duration of my high school career, I watched Troy Bolton from afar.

Troy Bolton was like magic made from angels D.N.A. He was breath-taking in his beauty; his face all strong angles, like it had been sculpted out of marble. His hair was sandy brown and fell in soft strands over his forehead and eyes, oh, his eyes. The deepest blue I have ever seen. There was something in them when he got really excited that just...just spoke multitudes of what he really was.

Of course, I had only ever seen this from afar. He was in my chemistry and biology classes, but other than that, we had no social interaction. Over the course of the past four years, I have spoken to him exactly twice.

The first was in tenth grade when he asked for a pen. I thought my heart was going to stop right immediately, the way he shifted in his desk in front of mine and whispered the request for a writing utensil to me, as if it was a secret just between us. As I passed the item to him, I felt my heart skip over a dozen beats and I wanted to capture that moment on film, just so I could replay it over and over and realize that I hadn't made it up.

The second was two months ago. I had received an extremely high mark on my biology test and he felt the need to comment on it.

"Holy shit, how did you manage that?" he had asked, his eyes gaping.

I shrugged, trying to keep my cool even though I felt I was going to explode just because he was looking at me. "I studied pretty hard."

"Looks like it paid off." Then the most amazing thing happened. He smiled at me. An actual, honest to God smile. It was the one he shot around to hundred of people daily, but something about it made me feel special. Like maybe, he was smiling it just for me.

To me, Troy Bolton wasn't just a status symbol. To me he seemed real. I wanted to get to know him, the real him. I wanted to talk with him, I wanted to see beneath the layers that were so clearly there.

It was an impossible thought, but it was still one that occupied my mind often.

---

The night my acceptance letter from Stanford came, my mother cried for three hours straight.

"Oh, Gabriella," she had sobbed, clutching my head to her chest. Awkwardly, I patted her back. "Oh, my baby, it's all happening. You're going to Stanford! Stanford University! Your dream! It's finally happening! I can't believe it's happening!"

I didn't say much in response, instead choosing to inspect the regal penmanship of the Dean's signature at the bottom of the page. My life was going exactly to plan. I was headed off to Stanford University, the place my mom and I had been talking about since I was a little girl. I was going to start premed and then in four years, I'd be off to Stanford Medical School and then I would start my internship and hopefully by the time I was forty, I would have a husband and three kids with a white picket fence.

My mother dabbed at her tears. "Oh, my baby, I'm so proud of you! You've worked so hard this year! I'm so blessed to have such a dedicated daughter! You never let distractions come in your way!"

She grinned so brightly at me that I couldn't help but smile back. But inside I was screaming. Yes, it was all finally happening.

So why wasn't I excited?

---

Graduation tumbled upon me faster than I had expected. One-second I was writing exams and cramming, sitting at home on prom night, curled up with a carton of ice cream and Titanic, and the next I was standing in alphabetical order with my classmates.

Receiving my diploma was like nothing I had expected. When I imagined this moment entering East High for the first time, I had imagined feeling happy, proud, accomplished. Now, living it, all I wanted was to get it over with.

I had been named valedictorian secretly three weeks ago. For some reason, it gives the student body a great joy to guess who their class speaker is, why, I have no idea. Either way, with everything I did, this deserved methodical research and strong time management. So I had googled everything I could on inspirational messages, watched humorous speeches on Youtube and read a dozen famous speeches all to prepare my own. The result was twelve cue cards filled with cliched messages and what I considered clever and witty jokes. Gulping nervously, I only hoped that everyone else would enjoy it as well.

As the two hundred names were being called, I looked up and watched as each person received their own diploma, and I applauded politely. Beautiful cheerleaders and performers from the drama department walked in perfect straight lines with dazzling grins and I realized I knew none of their names. Boys from sports teams and the school newspaper, even students from academic clubs such as chess or photography...each one was a face I couldn't place with a name.

I felt sick. Staring down at the note cards in my lap, I suddenly wanted to run. They were covered in words I never meant, never understood. My cursive writing had carefully in-scripted the same Dr. Seuss cliches everyone used. Glancing around me at my peers, I realized I knew none of them. I knew nothing about what they were about, nothing about what they were like, what they loved.

And I was expected to go up in front of the hundreds of people here and act like I was their best friend? Chances were, until someone announced my name, there was a more than good chance that none of them knew me either.

"Now I present to you, the class Valedictorian of 2008, Miss. Gabriella Montez."

Standing on shaky legs, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and advanced to the podium, the people around me blending into the scenery in one massive blur. I saw my mother's beaming face in the audience and as much as I wanted to smile back at her, I couldn't.

"Um, welcome, everyone to the commencement ceremony of East High School's Class of 2008," I began, swallowing the lump in my throat. With trembling hands I flipped through my cue cards. "It may seem like a cliche, but standing here among my fellow classmates and peers, I can't help but feel that..."

Then I stopped. "I feel that..." Another pause. Someone coughed. I looked back out to the audience, seeing hundreds upon hundreds of confused faces, one being my mother, whom I could tell was wondering anxiously why I wasn't continuing. Taking a deep breath, I set my speech down.

"I can't do this," I muttered into the microphone and the sea of people around me began to mumble to themselves. "I'm sorry," I looked back out at the class of 2008. "But I can't help but feel that...I don't know any of you."

The room was so quiet that it physically hurt. I felt that if I continued talking, people would break out in tears from the pain. Yet, like tears or vomit, the words just kept coming despite what I wanted.

"And I'm supposed to stand up here and talk about dedication and teamwork and how we're all in this together...when there's over two hundred faces looking back at me and...I can only name about sixty." I swallowed, feeling my breathing slow. "How can I be expected to talk about something I know nothing about? Staff and students of East High, I'm sorry, but you picked the wrong valedictorian. I can't talk about the places we'll go and the things we'll see, because I don't know any of you. And I don't know if that's my fault or yours...or if it even matters."

The silence that followed was excruciating. I could see my mother, my dear sweet mother, drop her head into her hands and I felt a pang of guilt spread through me. The principal was talking animatedly to a teacher, obviously trying to think of some way to make it seem like my entire speech was an elaborate joke; as if I was going to pull a rabbit out of my cap and scream, 'Surprise!'

Every student looked at me with a mix of confusion, shock and disgust on their faces. This was their valedictorian? This was who the teachers chose? I felt the tears well up in my eyes, and I bit on my bottom lip hard, trying to make it all go away. I couldn't do them justice.

A single clap echoed through the auditorium and my head shot up. Another clap, followed by another. It was all coming from one person, but whom? Glancing around wildly, my heart stopped when I saw the single figure standing up in the sea of red and white robes.

Troy Bolton was standing, looking straight at me and applauding.

The ripple effect this caused was amazing. Beside him, his best friend with the curly afro of hair stood up and began applauding as well. Then another student. One by one, each rose and began clapping.

I knew it was only a show, only to pretend that they had known me. But as I made my way back to my seat, my eyes never left Troy's, nor his mine. We remained locked in a gaze, one that communicated so much that I felt my heart would burst.

If I had to tell my grandkids one thing, it would be about the boy with the golden heart who stood up for me when no one else would.

---

As the ceremony commenced and students filtered through the auditorium, saying goodbye and hugging and cheering and crying, I weaved my way through them with my head down.

My mother took one look at me and turned the other way, her face covered in tears. I had let her down. I had humiliated myself and her.

I should have just said the Dr. Seuss speech.

Ducking my head down further, I picked up my pace, running in between students. I had to get out of there, I had to turn away and never look back. Naturally, I crashed into someone.

"I'm sorry!" I squealed, feeling my body hurtle towards the ground. I winced, waiting for the impact, but it never came. Two strong arms had encased themselves around me, and I opened my eyes slowly, afraid to see who my savior had been.

It was Troy Bolton and upon this realization, his arms felt like they were burning through the fabric onto my skin. I leapt up.

"Oh my, God, I am so, so sorry." I was in a state of panic. Troy just set me down and smiled.

"It's okay," he said softly. "It's kind of a crazy place around here, isn't it?"

I nodded. "I'll be going then." I said, beginning to run off in the other direction. But a strong grasp on my wrist propelled me backwards. Sparks shot through me and I flinched as if his touch burned me.

"Hey, hey," Troy said, turning me around to face him. "That was....that was a really brave thing you did back there."

I shrugged it off. "Yeah, well, it happens sometimes." Couldn't we just pretend it never happened? Why did he have to make me feel even worse about my current situation without even meaning to?

"No, really," he continued, stepping closer. "I don't know how you did it. It was really...admirable."

What was he playing at? First he did that remarkable thing and now he was talking to me? What was his deal? We had had less than three minutes of oral communication between us over the course of four years. Why now?

Looking up, I met his eyes and again I felt an unspoken conversation pass through them. I swallowed. "Thank you, for back there. You didn't have to do that."

He ducked his own head down, suddenly bashful. "Yeah, I did. It's not everyday someone says what everyone else is thinking for them – in front of hundreds of people, no less."

I laughed, my throat dry. "Yeah, well...happens."

He nodded and looked away, scratching the back of his neck. "Um, I'm Troy Bolton, by the way," he said awkwardly, extending his hand. I stared at it for a moment, and then back at him. When I didn't reach over to shake it, he pulled his hand back and chuckled to himself.

"I know," I said and squeezed my eyes shut as soon as the words left my mouth. "I mean, it'd be pretty hard for me not to."

He scratched the back of his neck again. "Heh, well, I could say the same for you."

My cheeks flushed wildly and I saw the realization of the full impact of his words spread across his face. "Wait, no, I didn't mean it like that, Gabriella."

The moment my name fell from his lips, I knew he was being sincere. I nodded and as if acting on impulse, I pulled out my yearbook, the one I had completely forgot I had on me; feeling suddenly compelled to remember this day.

"I know," I smiled shyly and extended my book to him. "Could you sign my yearbook for me?"

I swore I saw his eyes light up as he smiled and nodded, taking the book in his hand. "Sure thing," he paused suddenly and his face fell. "I haven't got mine on me."

My eyes shifted to the side. Why would he care. "That's um, okay."

He smiled again and pulled a pen out of his robe pocket before flipping my year book open. I felt my face flush a deep red at the lack of signatures.

"I haven't been able to get many people to sign it yet," I protested, though I knew it was useless and unnecessary: I had already announced my unpopularity moments ago.

Instead of replying, he looked down at the book thoughtfully and sat on the ground. "Do you mind if I just take a couple of minutes with this? I want to get this right."

"S-sure," I stuttered, taken aback as he made himself comfortable. I circled around him like a hawk as he scrawled words into my book, holding it close to his body to keep it away from my view. What was he writing? Something about how he thought I was actually completely ridiculous? Something about how I should never change and keep in touch? Maybe he was writing out the Dr. Seuss poem himself.

After moments that felt like years had passed, he handed me back my book. "Take care of yourself, Gabriella." His hand brushed mine and then he turned to walk away.

Faster than a child on Christmas morning, I tore open my book to read his inscription. What I read warmed my body from head to toe and made me dizzy with the implication of it all.

_Dear Gabriella,_

_First, please don't think that I don't know who you are. I do know who you are, very well in fact, and I'm sorry if that sounds stalkerish. You're Gabriella Montez, possibly the smartest girl I know...but as I say that, I don't really know you. I don't know what you were thinking when you'd stare off in class, nor do I know your hobbies or interests outside of math club and choir. But I do know that you've changed me, inspired me in ways you can't even imagine. I'm sorry we never got the chance for you to find out. Take care of yourself. _

_Love, Troy Bolton_

My heart swelled at the words. Could it be? I stared at his retreating back with my heart in my mouth. Was it possible that he had felt the same way I had all this time? No, it didn't make sense. But looking back down at the inscription, my mind only drew one conclusion.

One that said that maybe, Troy Bolton was as much in love with me as I was with him.

My mouth moved against my own will and I found myself shouting and running after him. "Troy!" I yelled, my legs moving faster than I had expected. "Troy!"

He turned around, as if expecting my reaction. "Yes?" He asked, a grin dancing across his lips.

I grinned back. "Where are you going to school?"

"NYU. How about you?" Our conversation was all shouting, yelling and grinning and my heart was going to burst at that very moment.

"That's...pretty unclear!" No it wasn't. I always knew where I was going. I was going to Stanford.

Wasn't I?

He laughed one more time and when he looked up, his eyes were sparkling like the surface of the ocean. "Good luck, Gabriella."

And with that, he was gone; disappeared into a sea of hugs and cheers from friends and people I knew nothing of.

But as I pressed my hand to my mouth in shock and tried desperately to erase the huge grin on my mouth, I knew I had no choice but to do what I did next. Call it temporary insanity, call it young love, call it what you want. I just knew that what I was about to do was the craziest thing imaginable, not just for a girl like me...but for anyone in general.

And it felt so good.

_"So, basically, I've given up everything my parents ever planned for me, everything I ever expected...all for a boy I don't even know."_

_-Felicity Porter, Pilot  
_


	2. Stay in New York or Perish

You guys are so awesome. The response I've gotten for this is far more than I expected and I'm so pleased that I am starting the next chapter right after posting this one. These chapters are so much longer than I am used to, this one alone being twelve and a half pages and equaling over 5,000 words. Still, absolutely wonderful. :)

I'm also a bigger dork than I thought, and just for fun and as a homage to the Felicity series, I made an opening for this fic using the concept of the original Felicity opening theme. Links on my profile for those interested!

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**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Two: Stay in New York or Perish_

---

"You don't understand," I said, gripping the edge of the desk and feeling my resolve weaken. "There's been a mistake. I'm not supposed to be here. "

"I don't understand the problem, Ms. Montez," the blonde secretary said. "You are a student here at New York University, it says so right here. What do you mean you're not supposed to be here?"

I shook my head, feeling the tears prick my eyes. "I know what it says!" I said, feeling sick. "It's wrong! This whole thing was a mistake!"

The woman looked at me with a sympathetic smile playing on her lips before leaning over and patting me on the hand. "Oh, sweetheart, it's difficult the first few weeks, but you'll get used to it. See your resident advisor if you continue to have difficulties, okay? They can work wonders."

With that, she moved along to the next person standing in line behind me and I felt desperation surge through my veins. "You don't understand!" I squealed, pushing in front of the person. "It wasn't supposed to be this way."

Oh god, how it wasn't.

---

"You cannot do this, Gabriella!" My mother had screamed at me, throwing the clothes out of my suitcase back onto my bed. "You are not uprooting your future! You are not making some ill-advised choice now!"

"Mom," I cried, bringing my knees up to my chest as I rocked back and forth on the bed. "You don't understand! This is what I want! The school said it would take drastic measures to get me in at this point, but they are willing to make an exception. They _want_ to make an exception for _me_! For me, mom, me!"

"I don't care! You are not going to New York, Gabriella!" she yelled again, whipping the suitcase to the ground. My whole life I had never seen her this angry, but I couldn't help but feel compelled to keep talking, to keep explaining myself.

Standing up abruptly, I slammed the suitcase shut and pressed my hand firmly on it. I looked my mother straight in the eye, keeping my gaze strong and confident. I _had_ to do this and I needed my mother to understand.

"I'm eighteen, mom," I said slowly, sternly. "You can't control my actions anymore. I don't want to go to Stanford and it's too late, I deferred. I want to go to New York, I need to go to New York. I'm going there on full scholarship. This is something I want to do for myself."

My mother looked defeated and her shoulders slumped as she pressed a hand to her temple. "Gabriella, you can't do this. You can't, you're giving up everything. What could possibly be worth it? What can New York give you that Stanford can't?"

_Everything, _was what I thought, but I did not dare say it. Instead I handed her the course handbook and began showing her the potential of their medical programs and all the opportunities I could gain by being in New York. I was terribly convincing and while my mom did not seem top happy about the situation, it seemed that she was accepting it.

Accepting that fact that I, on a daring whim had decided to contact New York University two days after graduation about enrollment information. It was the craziest, weirdest idea I had ever had, and my voice trembled as I spoke to admissions on the phone. My hands shook as I sat there, flipping through information packets and course calenders, Googling images of the campus.

Not a day went by where I didn't sit with my yearbook in my lap, reading over Troy Bolton's inscription; memorizing the words by heart. The summer days passed in a frenzy as I would sit on my bed and dream about the future, finally excited for it for the first time in four years. The prospect of New York was thrilling and the thought of encountering Troy and possibly getting to know him, that he'd want to get to know me, was enough to make me shake with anticipation.

Finally I was taking control. I had done a complete one-eighty and decided to go in the opposite direction of what my mother had wanted and as much as I felt pained to know how much it was hurting her, I could only hope that one day, she would be able to see that this might just possibly be the thing that saved me.

---

New York was stunning, that was the only way I could summarize it. Buildings taller than I had ever seen before, people everywhere, crowding the sidewalks and streets. The air held a sense of importance with people hustling and bustling left and right, backwards and forwards.

Central Park, Greenwich Village, hot dog vendors and street vendors. Women dressed in head to toe Chanel and men wearing expensive suits with large briefcases. High school students dressed in plaid skirts and blazers. Artists with over a dozen piercings in their ears and musicians with their instruments slung over their shoulders. Drug deals taking place outside the cafe across from me and stolen kisses exchanged by a couple seated inside. Everywhere I looked, something new was occurring, something difference compared to the bland quite of Albuquerque's suburbs. Arriving here gave me the biggest sense of reassurance ever. This was the right choice and despite all the noise and sirens and chaos, I knew that even shy old me would fit in nicely.

I was assigned a room in Goddard Hall, a small building for freshmen housing. Staring up at the brick walls and large glass doors, I felt a small smile spread across my face.

_Welcome home_, I thought. With that, I gathered my suitcases and stepped through the doors and after ten minutes of searching, I was finally able to locate my dorm.

"Whoa." Stumbling into the room that was now my home for the next year, I decided that out of all the things I had seen that day, this was the most spectacular, the most interesting. One side of the room was bare with a single bed equipped with a mattress, a dresser, desk and shelving unit. The other side, however, was completely different.

The occupant of that left side of the room obviously had a strong affection for the colour pink. She had hung pink curtains on her window, had a collection of pink bed-dressings and pillows and a round fluffy rug was set adjacent to the bed. The top of her dresser was covered with bottles of perfume and a large stackable make-up case. Pictures were stuck underneath the frame of the mirror and after dropping my things on my side of the room, I went over to take a closer look at my soon to be roommate.

Each photograph showed a tall blonde with a bright smile. One with her dog, one with a blonde boy, and a few of her performing on stage. There was, however, a stunning lack of other females in the pictures, so it was easy to assume that the blonde was the owner of all this glitz.

I had never had a close girlfriend and looking at the pictures of this girl, it seemed like she didn't either. Maybe she was just as lonely as I was. Maybe she was in need of a friend, too. Maybe we could _be_ friends. The thought brought a smile to my lips.

An hour later, though, she had still not shown up. My side of the room was slowly coming together; I had put out pictures of my family and a large cork-board above my desk. The floral quilt my grandmother had made for me years ago was spread across the bed and from my laptop the soft sounds of Laura Marling filled the room.

Yes, it was finally starting to feel like home. Well, maybe it wasn't that it was feeling like home, maybe it was because I knew it was home. I knew this was the right decision, coming to NYU despite disappointing my mother. Coming to NYU in hopes of being with Troy. Living in New York and really, _really_ living and finding out who I truly was.

The door swung open at that moment, making me jump. One hand to my chest, I turned around and saw the blonde from the photographs staring back at me, her eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a clipped voice, hitching her large monogrammed bag on her shoulder. She was a stunning girl, hair and make up to the nines, wearing a bright purple dress with puffy sleeves and matching heels. I smiled shyly, feeling intimidated. She was just like the beautiful girls at my school that I never got to know.

Maybe now was the time to make things different.

"Um, hi," I began awkwardly, extending my hand to her. "I'm Gabriella Montez. I guess this makes us roommates."

"Oh, _fantastic_," the girl groaned, rolling her eyes. She stomped into the room and dropped her bag on her bed before looking me pointedly in the eye. "Sharpay Evans and let's get some ground rules down, okay? I'm an actress, which means I need my beauty sleep. Which means this crap?" She smashed her hand on the mouse of my laptop, ceasing the sound. "This has to be off at all times. That's why they invented headphones."

To say I was startled was a complete understatement. She was completely livid over something as simple as music. Shaking out her hair, she stormed back over to her side of the room and began riffling through her closet.

"Um, maybe we could go get a cup of coffee later?" I asked, hoping that despite her cold-exterior, she might just need a little warming up. "Get to know each other better?"

Sharpay scoffed and turned around to look at me, one hand on a black, floral number and the other on her hip. "Gabriella, really. We don't need to do this 'buddy-buddy' roommate crap. Frankly, I don't want to."

Okay? Who did this girl think she was? All hopes I had previously of being friends with this girl were shot down in an instant.

"Well, I just figured that -- " I began weakly and Sharpay smirked.

"Well, you figured wrong. I'm not interested in being friends, Montez," she picked up her purse and swung it over her shoulder. "Especially with someone who listens to music as lame as that."

In two quick strides, she was back out the door and I was left staring dumbfounded at the back of it. She was quite a character, that much was obvious, and I found myself silently wondering how I was going to survive the whole year with her.

---

The next two days passed in a blur: Sharpay was barely around, always disappearing off to some foreign place where I could not follow, and frankly, it was fine by me. My classes seemed interesting enough and were holding my attention, but the whole thing was so scary and new that sometimes, it was hard to know where to start and where to stop and breathe.

As I stood in the corridor of my dormitory, arms ladened with books and papers, I kept my head down, as per usual; the weight of my belongings making it hard to walk. Just a few more feet till I reached my dorm.

Now, I've never been the most coordinated person I've ever met, and this increased with the fact that I rarely looked up when I was walking. So it didn't surprise me when I underestimated the space in front of me and collided head first with someone.

Falling to the ground, my papers and textbooks flew everywhere in a giant cloud and I groaned outwardly as one particularly heavy book landed on my knee. It wasn't until I forced my eyes open and saw two denim clad legs standing before me, that I realized that I had indeed crashed into someone, and the impact of it hadn't forced them to the ground.

"Oh, I'm so, so sorry!" I said, anxiously, looking up. I stopped when my eyes met a deep blue. It was Troy Bolton.

There he was, standing before me; a stunned expression on his face. His eyes were wide with surprise and his lips upturned in a smile. He laughed out loud and grabbed my hand, helping me up.

"Oh, my god!" he exclaimed, grinning. "I can't believe it! Gabriella Montez?"

My heart fluttered. He remembered me! He remembered me completely and entirely. The inscription in my yearbook had meant something! "Wow! Troy Bolton!" I feigned shock. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing here?" he asked, still laughing. "This is where I go to school!'

A hand flew to my mouth. "I totally forgot you go here! I go here, I mean, this is where I'm attending school!"

Before I could continue, a girl came up next to Troy and curled her hand around his arm. "Troy, you can't just go running off like that." Her be-speckled eyes surveyed the area, from the papers covering the ground to me standing in front of her. "Look what you've done!"

"Kelsi, you'll never believe this," he said excitedly, and I felt sick at the sight of her hand on his arm. Why wasn't she moving it? Why wasn't he asking her to move it? "I went to high school with this girl! She did the most amazing thing at our graduation, she --"

He had a girlfriend. Oh my god, he had a girlfriend. This Kelsi; this petite, fair-skinned brunette with the wide eyes and glasses. She smiled at me in a friendly manner, but I couldn't help but feel sick.

"Gabriella? Are you alright?" I barely registered his voice, feeling everything around me swirl and fall apart. I came here for him and he didn't want me, of course he didn't want me. He had a girlfriend, he always had girlfriends in school. Why did I think it would be different now that we were at university?

Pressing a hand to my mouth, I nodded numbly before plastering a smile on my face. "Yep. I'm just fine. I'd better be going though," I said, bending down frantically to gather my things.

"Oh. Well, let me help you," Troy said, bending down to help.

"No!" I shot, jutting out my hand in protest. "Don't. I'm fine."

It took me thirty-seconds to finish gathering the papers that resulted from our collision and it was the longest thirty-seconds of my life, knowing that _Troy_ and his _girlfriend_ were standing there and watching me scramble. Without uttering a goodbye, I kept my head down, and as I had so many times before, barreled through the hall to my destination.

Nothing had changed.

Closing the door to my room behind me, I slid down it's surface and crumpled on the ground. My lips were quivering and I could feel the hysterical tears spring to my eyes. Drawing myself up into a ball, I remained there and sobbed.

Why had I been so _stupid_? What did I possibly think was going to happen? That Troy Bolton was going to open his arms and declare his love for me? For him to say that he felt the same way, that he had pined for me, too, after all these years? That we would fall in love and get married and have children? _What_?

His reaction and the girl he was with; it was so realistic and logical that I couldn't help but question my sanity. I followed a boy two-thousand miles. _Two-thousand miles_. Even worse, I didn't even know him. I followed an idea, a dream, a fleeting chance and threw away everything I had worked for and built in the blink of an eye.

All because of a stupid message he wrote in my yearbook.

Laughing out loud at my stupidity, I stood up and dragged myself to my bed where I slumped across the sheets and tucked my knees under my chin. Hours passed as the bright sun from the window turned slowly to black and darkness enveloped my room, all while I contemplated the fact that I was lying on a bed in New York City, crying over a boy.

_A yearbook inscription_. I thought he was in love with me because of something he wrote in my yearbook. Oh, dear _god_, I was crazy! There was no excuse for this behavior, absolutely none at all.

That's when it hit me. The panic rising in my chest, something clenching me about the heart, the throat so that I could barely breathe. I was transported back in time three months ago to graduation, feeling desperate and alone and wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of there.

I had to get out of here. I had to drop out. I had to go home. I had to go to Stanford. I had to forget Troy Bolton.

With that notion in my head, I bounded to the admissions office, quite away across campus from my dormitory, and demanded that I be un-enrolled, but the secretary had been no help. She didn't see the desperation behind my voice, the longing to get out of there. She thought I was merely a scared student, just like everyone else. It was so much more than that.

Well, screw her! I'd show her how serious I was, just how badly I needed to leave. Returning to my room, I began tearing open drawers and ripping books off shelves. Clothes, pictures, toiletries, everything had to go back into my bag and be packed away so I could go home and figure out my life. New York was not the place to do so, despite whatever I had thought.

"Goddamn, I feel like I just walked into an after-school special," an obnoxious voice sounded, and I looked up to see Sharpay standing in the door of our room, one hand on her hip. She waved a hand around the room, gesturing to the mess which was my side. "What's all this?"

She kicked at a suitcase with her patent-leather covered toe and folded her arms, clearly waiting for an explanation. I wanted to slap that smug smirk off her face.

"I'm dropping out," I declared, throwing a stack of underwear into my suitcase. "You can start celebrating if you'd like," I glared. "You won't ever have to hear any of my 'lame music' again."

Sharpay let out a guffaw and waltzed over to her side of the room, pulling out her make-up case and searching through it. "I knew you wouldn't last here, but damn, I figured you'd give it at least a week."

At her words, I froze, scrunching my brow. "What's that supposed to mean?" Did I seem that weak-willed? Did I come off as indecisive as I felt? Here I thought I was so brilliant at hiding my emotions.

Pulling out a tube of shimmery pink lipgloss, Sharpay shrugged and I hated her even more in that instant. "I just mean, that, well, this is a huge ass place, Gabriella. You either sink or swim." She turned to me and jabbed in my direction with the lipgloss wand. "Are you sure you're even in the pool?"

"You know what?" I said, exasperated, slamming the lid of my suitcase shut. "I don't need this and I'm so happy that I will never have to breathe the same air as you ever again, Sharpay Evans. I've known you for seventy-two hours and who are you to judge me?"

"I'm pretty sure you're doing the same right now, Montez."

I threw my hands up in aggravation. "Forget it. I need some air. I'll finish this later, so let that be a warning if you want to make yourself scarce for the next few hours." I began to walk out of the room, infuriated.

"With pleasure!" she called as I threw the door shut. Storming through the common room and a dozen perplexed looking students, I realized I had no idea where I was going. I didn't know my way around here at all yet. I could go to the dining hall, but what would be that point of that?

Feeling all the frustration and heartache from the past few days, no, months, maybe even years build up in me, I darted down the hallway in search for an escape.

Which conveniently came to me in the form of a labelled one. **Fire escape. **

It was probably prohibited. In fact, I was down right sure that it was, but I needed to get out of here and the staircase the led up to the rooftop seemed so inviting that I just couldn't help but feel pulled to it. Step by step, I climbed, my throat closing up. I just needed to make it outside and then I could cry.

Stepping out onto the roof top, I felt the breath being knocked out of me. The September air was colder than I had expected and in my hurry to escape the ice-queen downstairs, I was clad only in a thin T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. My arms flew around my frame and I walked closer to the edge of the roof, surprised to see a small bench located a few feet away from it. Maybe this wasn't such a prohibited place after all. Regardless, I sat down and stared out to the city in front of me.

It was gorgeous at night, with the lights from buildings twinkling like stars. Everywhere I looked, I saw that life was being lived. Yet here I was, in this comatose state, waiting for something, _anything_ to wake me up.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I released all of my frustration, crying until I felt my tears soak through the fabric of my pants. Why had I thought that coming here was the answer? Why had I thought that something as mundane as a yearbook inscription...meant something? What was I even expecting from any of this?

A loud bang interrupted my thoughts and I whirled my head around, my hair whipping me in the face. My eyes widened at the sight in front of me and I jumped up, ready to bolt.

"I'm sorry!" I said, feeling panic rush over me. "I didn't think anyone else would come up here! I was just leaving!"

Troy Bolton stood in front of me, wearing jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked up at me, biting on his lip thoughtfully. "No," he said, stepping closer to me. "I um, ah damn, I come off as such a stalker."

I paused, confused. "What?"

"I saw you run up here. I followed you," he confessed and for the second time that night, I felt breathless. "You seemed upset."

Rubbing at my wet face, I turned around and slumped back on the bench. "I'm fine, really. You can go now."

Only he didn't. He came and sat next to me on the bench, crossing his feet around the ankles. What was he doing? Would I ever understand this boy?

"Now, Gabriella," he smiled and nudged my elbow with his. "I was raised as a gentlemen, or at least, my mother likes to think so." I let out a small giggle and he grinned back. "You are crying. What kind of gentlemen would I be if I just let you stay here all by yourself, crying?"

"You weren't being a gentlemen earlier," I spat, flinching at my harsh tone. Why was I acting like this. He most certainly did not warrant it. He had no idea. "You didn't introduce me to your girlfriend."

He looked at me, stunned. "My girl..." With that, he burst out laughing. "Wait, you mean, Kelsi? You thought...? Oh man!"

I stiffened, unable to find the humor in the situation. "What's so funny?" I demanded as he practically clutched his side in his hysteria.

Leaning back against the bench he let out an amused sigh and looked at me lazily. "Kelsi isn't my girlfriend, Gabriella. She's a composer I met at an internship I took this summer here in New York and just a friend."

My cheeks flushed the deepest red possible. The darkest shade of crimson in any crayon box could not match up to the shade that was my cheeks. "O-oh." I stammered, embarrassed by my conclusion. "I just assumed --"

She wasn't his girlfriend. She wasn't. That changed nothing, however. Any chance of anything remotely sparking as a result from any high school lust would have happened in those brief moments we collided. The yearbook inscription was really just him being nice. Just being a gentlemen.

"Don't worry about it," Troy said, smiling softly. "Seeing you earlier was just a...I don't know, but I wasn't expecting it, so sorry that I forgot my manners. I'll introduce you properly next time."

Next time? I ignored the implications of that and said nothing. He cleared his throat.

"Though, you seemed a little off earlier," he rubbed the back of his neck again. "I mean, not that I know when you're, um, on, or whatever, but you left rather abruptly. Now I find you on the rooftop of our dorm building, crying. I think I've safely deducted that something isn't right."

"I just," I took a deep breath, willing my throat not to close up again. He was so, so close to me now that I could smell his scent and it was intoxicating. As much as I loved having him there, a huge part of me just wanted him to go away.

That in itself scared me.

The thought of him judging me, of telling me that yes, I was wrong to be here in New York; for him to tell me that he did not feel the same way I did and that I was basically insane was so scary, but so plausible that I felt like crying.

Suddenly, I felt a warmth spread over my shoulders and I looked up, stunned. The top of my head collided with Troy's chin and he winced slightly in pain. I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth.

"What are you --" Thats when I noticed his hands hovering by my neck. He had removed his hoodie and was placing it around my shoulders. I flushed brightly and began to take it off, but he held his hands up.

"No, don't," he protested. "You're freezing and wearing nothing but a T-shirt. What were you thinking that made you come up here so rashly?"

Feeling very uncomfortable indeed, I opened my mouth to reply, but the words stopped when I saw the look on his face. He seemed genuinely concerned, like he actually cared enough to hear my answer. He smiled almost sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, something I was quickly learning was a nervous habit.

"I mean, you don't have to tell me, of course," he chuckled awkwardly. "But I'm willing to listen if you're willing to talk."

I turned away from him and despite myself, pulled his sweater closer to my body. "I just..." I tried again and fixed my gaze on the skyline in front of me. I squeezed my eyes shut, the imagery too much to bare with my eyes that were so undeserving.

"I'm surrounded by all this beauty," I confessed. "All these opportunities, all these chances to be something new. Everywhere I look is a new beginning and I...I can't embrace any of it because I'm still staple-gunned to my past."

With the words leaving my mouth, I felt free and restrained all at once. I didn't want to leave room for him to reply, so I continued. "I gave up everything to come here, Troy, everything. I don't know if my mom will ever look at me the same way. For once, just once, I wanted to take control, you know? I wanted to do something completely selfish, completely irrational and by coming here, I got it."

I sighed and felt the tears well in my eyes again. "I just wanted for once to let my heart decide."

Troy didn't say anything for several moments and I felt a few tears escape from my eyelids and fall onto my face. Why was I telling him all this? He and I barely knew each other and here I was, pouring my heart out to him like we were best friends? What was I thinking?

"I'm sorry," I said and began to pull the sweater off again. I dropped it on the bench beside me. "I shouldn't have just thrown all that on you. Thanks for listening." I wiped at my cheeks roughly, the cool air making them sting.

"I know what you mean."

That one sentence ceased my movement and I turned to look over my shoulder. Troy was standing beside the bench, looking down at the sweatshirt I had left behind which was now fisted in his hands.

"W-what?" I asked, slowly turning around again. He did not look up, but his gaze remained fixed downwards. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and the look of vulnerability I saw in his face made me step closer to him, wanting to reach out and hold him.

"About wanting to be in control of your future. Of wanting to let your heart decide," he ran a hand through his air and let the sweatshirt drop back down onto the bench. "I'm just like you, you know." He glanced up at me then through his eyelashes and he chuckled. "My being here is the exact opposite of what my parents wanted, too."

I sucked in a breath. I was _nothing_ like him. I didn't just come here to defy my parents. I came here for_ him_.

He threw his sweatshirt back on and zipped it up before pulling the hood on before making his way over to me. Placing a hand on my arm, he took two steps closer until any personal space between us was nearly nonexistent.

"Gabriella," he began and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face, causing me to nearly pass out. "You might think you came here to rebel against your parents, to gain some control...but, I can't help but feel that you didn't. Maybe you came here for a reason bigger than yourself and you just don't know it yet." He swallowed and his eyes searched my face, gauging my reaction.

"You can't go now and spend the rest of your life thinking what if? 'Cause if you leave, you will. You'll leave New York and wonder what you missed. Do you really want to go through that, knowing that you gave up without even trying?"

Withdrawing his hand from my arm, he continued. "Either way...stay. Not because of your mom, not because I'm asking you to, but because you need to figure out what that thing was."

I didn't say anything for a moment, letting his words sink in. I had never felt so lost in my life, and yet everything he was saying was making sense. Maybe he was right, maybe there was something more to me being here. Hadn't I thought that New York could save me? That maybe it was where I would finally start living? Why had all that changed just because of Troy's reaction? Even if he was a reason I was here, it couldn't have been the only one.

"My roommate said she knew I wouldn't last here," I looked down at our shoes; his Converse sneakers and my flip-flops. "Like she was anticipating my departure."

Troy smiled faintly. "Now, you wouldn't want to prove her right, would you?"

"No, not at all. Between you and I, she's a bitch."

We laughed together before silence overtook us. Troy stepped forward and placed his hand on my shoulder again, giving a squeeze before stuffing his hands in his pockets and turning to leave. "Just between you and I."

Just between the two of us, like a real secret. Only it wasn't a big deal, but that didn't bother me. Walking back over the bench, I smiled softly to myself.

"Oh, Montez?" I whirled around at the sound of his voice and saw him standing there by the door, grinning. "If you do leave, I have to say, I'll be disappointed. You seem stronger than that."

With that he stepped through the fire escape door and I remained, my eyes glued to the spot he was once occupied. I took a deep breath, feeling all my nerves and apprehensions dissolving.

Oh, Troy Bolton. What you do to me.

Following the same path, I opened the fire escape door, but turned back once more and looked out to the bright lights of the city. I smiled.

"Hello, New York."

"_And you'll be able to trace it back to this instant, this very moment, when that geek R.A. gave you these four words of advice: Stay in New York or Perish...Five...six words."_

_- Noel Crane, Pilot_


	3. You're Not Alone in It All

Seriously, you guys are amazing. Sixteen reviews for the last chapter? I've over the moon!

I'm finishing up the in-depth chapter plans this week and I have to thank my best friend for her great input. Not to mention, her great ability to listen to me ramble about plot devices and 'No, I can't just do that because I have to develop...' constantly. Even while she's writing a screenplay. That's due next week. And I'm just a source of distraction for her.

Yeah, I owe her a lot.

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Three: You're Not Alone In It All_

---

Waking up in the middle of the night, for any reason, is dreadful. Whether it's from a nightmare that's so irrational that you awake to find yourself trembling or waking up to use the bathroom, it's always an unwanted interruption to your peaceful slumber.

But when you awake to the smell of smoke, mixed with loud shouting and an extremely piercing beeping filtering through the air, it's more than a cause for panic.

Two days after Troy had persuaded me to stay in New York, that was how I woke at 3:12 AM on a Wednesday morning. The smell of smoke was putrid and my eyes snapped open at the violent coughing coming across the room from Sharpay's bed.

She swung her legs over her bed, glad in bright pink boy-shorts and a camisole, an eye-mask complete with eyelashes covering her eyes. She ripped it off, angrily and glared at me, as if I was breathing fire and therefore creating the smoke that was seeping underneath the crack of our door.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded, flicking on the lights. I squeezed my eyes shut as they painfully adjusted to the light and shook my head.

"How should I know?" I whined groggily. "I just woke up, too." I sniffed the air around me and gave a small cough. "Is that smoke?"

Sharpay glared at me. "No, stupid, it's fairy-dust! Oh my god, I forgot to tell you that Peter Pan was coming to visit us! Hurry, let's catch our flight to Neverland!"

I rolled my eyes. Her sarcasm was unwanted at the best of times, but at three in the morning, I really just wanted to duck tape her mouth shut. Stumbling out of bed, I threw a fluffy bathrobe on and paddled into the common room, which really wasn't the smartest of ideas I've ever had. What if I were to open the door and come face to face with a blazing inferno? That would certainly be a pathetic demise by any account, simply because I had been stupid enough to blindly walk into it. Either way, I left my room with Sharpay hot on my heels and entered the chaos.

Down the hall from us, a crowd had gathered around particular dorm room's door where clouds of grey smoke were streaming out. Yelling could be heard and with a quick glance exchanged between us, Sharpay and I bounded down the hall to see what all the excitement was about.

Pushing through several students, we leaned over the tops of shoulders and heads. "What's going on?" Sharpay hissed and a redheaded boy turned around to face us.

"Devon decided to...cook himself a late night snack," he said, laughing uproariously. "It didn't go as planned."

Indeed, inside the dorm room were two figures, one blonde boy holding a fire extinguisher and the other a brunette. Both seemed in an argument.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" The blonde screamed.

"I was being safe! The window was open!" The brunette insisted, gesturing to the open window. "I even had the fire extinguisher all ready!"

The blonde gaped. "Are you serious? Am I hearing you correctly? You thought it was okay to have a barbeque in your dorm room just because you took some safety precautions? How the hell did you get into this university if you follow logical like that?!"

The brunette flushed. "I'm in an arts program!"

"I don't care! You nearly started a fire! The whole building is filled with smoke! The fire department is on it's way! You're being reported!"

Gasping, the brunette threw his arms up. "What? You can't do that!"

"I can so do that!" In two swift motions, he closed the lid of the barbeque (how the boy had managed to get it in his dorm room, I will never understand) and began wheeling it out of the room. "I am your resident advisor and I will do what I see fit! Now move, you heard of cattle! It's time to evacuate!" He screamed at us, running over a student's foot as he tore out the room. Yelling over his shoulder, he continued down the hall.

"Let this be a lesson to you that your R.A., Ryan Evans, means business!" Punching his fist in the air, he slammed his palm on the buttons outside the elevator and moments later, disappeared into the confinements of the opening door, leaving some eighty-students in the hall, most laughing and a few others still pissed off at the disruption in our sleep.

Sharpay folded her arms. "Well, our R.A. is a tool," she scoffed and began to make her way to the elevator along with seven hundred thousand other students. I, however, remained where I was standing and peered back into the dorm room. The brunette boy was still standing in the spot Ryan left him, his head hung a little low. I knocked on the door and his head snapped up. He stared at me, questioningly, and I questioned myself for a moment before going on.

"Are you okay?" I asked, gently. He shook his head and I realized I didn't know what to say to comfort him. What he had done was the epitome of stupidity, but with all the crazy decisions I had been making lately, I couldn't help but relate.

When he walked the three steps from the place he stood to walk past me in the hall without a second glance, I felt my stomach fall. All I had wanted to do was tell him that I understood, that sometimes it was hard being the center of a catastrophe. Instead, I just looked foolish.

"You stayed."

Those two words uttered by a voice I had only dreamt about caused a shiver to run down my spine, but it was the look in his eye when I turned to the right and saw Troy standing there that made my heart falter. He smiled at me and I could feel myself clam up.

"Um, yeah," I said, suddenly more shy around him than I had ever been. Since our talk on the rooftop two nights earlier, to say I had been avoiding him would be a drastic understatement. When I thought back to how easily I had caved under his words, his gaze; I felt sick. He wasn't just this boy I was...in love with anymore. He was this representation, this symbol of all of my irrational decisions, all my misplaced emotions.

Not to mention that I was terribly, horribly embarrassed at how vulnerable I had been and each word that had left my lips.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, we stood awkwardly in the hallway, neither sure of what to say. Scratching the back of his neck, Troy's eyes darted around as he opened his mouth to speak.

"So, um, pretty eventful night, huh?" he gave a chuckle, trying to make the situation lighter and less uncomfortable. Though I should have embraced the idea, I didn't. Instead, I stubbornly refused to give in this time.

"Yeah, one of many I assume," I looked down the hallway past him and saw that the last few students had finally filtered into the elevator, leaving he and I alone. "We really should be evacuating."

With that, I began to walk down the hall, quickly, as usual, intent on escaping another unwanted conversation. Then his fingers closed around my wrist and I found myself face to face with his blue eyes.

"I'm glad," he said softly, and I stared at him in confusion.

"What? That we're evacuating?"

He looked down and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He seemed to be contemplating something, something I couldn't put my finger on and despite how much I yearned to, I stopped myself from thinking about it further.

"No," he began pointedly, still not releasing his grasp on my wrist. "No, that you stayed. I knew you were stronger than that."

I raised my eyes to meet his and all at once, everything I had ever felt about him hit me square in the face. From the first moment I saw him, to the two times we spoke in high school to graduation, everything. The realization that not once did he ever feel the same about me came shortly after, and despite how badly I wanted his words to mean something more, I was quickly learning not to be that naive.

So my next words, despite how quickly I shot them at him were carefully chosen and crafted. I pulled my hand out his grasp and looked away from his eyes.

"Yes, but, Troy," I smiled a sad smile and took a deep breath. "You never really knew me. You _don't_ know me."

Refusing to let him get the last word this time, I turned on my heel and walked to the empty elevator and stepped in. I watched as his gaze remained on me even as the doors came to a close. Once confined in the small area, I took a deep breath and pressed my cool palms to my hot cheeks. Troy Bolton was the reason I came here and his words were the reason I stayed, but he would not be the reason I succeeded.

I would make sure of it.

---

In the midst of thinking about Troy Bolton almost twenty-four seven during the two months that was my summer vacation, I very nearly forgot that I was going to be attending university and that there would indeed be work to be done. I had forgotten about the world of class syllabuses and textbooks, papers and research essays. So going to my first few classes was certainly an interesting experience.

In the science lab, however, I was in my element. This was where I belonged, sitting on a high stool and mixing toxic chemicals until I created something that could potentially cure life-threatening illnesses. I loved this. I lived for this. _This_ made everything worth it.

"All right, children," my ancient professor droned on. He was an eccentric man, with a mop of curly brown hair on the top of his head and had an obvious love for sweaters. He adjusted his square-framed glasses on the top of his nose and stared down at the sheet of paper in his hand, trying to make out his own penmanship. "Turn to your right."

We did as instructed. To my right sat a girl with dark skin and short cropped dark hair. She was dressed all business like, in a pleated skirt, white blouse and sweater vest. She looked me at smiled weakly. I smiled back.

"Now," the professor took a deep breath and squinted at the writing. "Meet your..." he paused and squinted harder, "Your...la-la...LAB partner. Meet your lab partner."

I stuck my hand out at the girl and smiled. "I'm Gabriella Montez," I said, shyly, but hoping that just maybe, her introduction would be different from Sharpay's.

"Taylor Mckessie," she said, pumping my hand. She had an intimidating handshake, strong and firm. "You any good at this stuff? What was your grade in high school?"

I sat back, a little surprised at her forwardness as she looked me up and down, as if evaluating my intelligence. "I'm very good at this stuff," I said, feeling a little offended. "I managed to get ninety-six percent in my twelfth grade chemistry class."

She grinned and bumped her shoulder against mine and scooted her stool closer to mine. "I'm just being sure. I don't exactly want to be paired up with some plastic Barbie who can't do long division."

I folded my arms, pretending to be offended. "I'm sorry, do I look like Malibu Barbie to you?" I joked. "I don't think so."

Taylor laughed. "No, you don't. Your breasts look real. Can't say the same for that blonde over there, though."

The two of us laughed together and began discussing the assignment. As we did so, I felt a rush of excitement pass through me. Taylor seemed sweet and driven, qualities that were certainly something I would love in a friend. So when class started and she asked if I'd like to go get a cup of coffee from a place she knew a few blocks from campus, I eagerly obliged.

The small cafe Taylor pulled me into was more comfortable and homey than any Starbucks that you could find in New York. With it's warm yellow walls and dark hardwood floors, I felt like I was more in someone's living room rather than a place of business. 'Jenny's', it was called and the owner and store's namesake was a small Asian woman with a large smile and brightly coloured hair. She greeted Taylor by name and embraced me when I was introduced as her new friend from university.

"Oh, it's so wonderful to see Taylor making friends already!" she exclaimed, holding my face with her soft hands. "Such beautiful ones, too! Look at your eyes! Your hair! Stunning!"

I flushed under her grasp as Taylor laughed to herself before pulling me away and dragging me over to a set of two well-worn olive green chairs.

"Get us two of the usual," she said to Jenny and the petite woman scurried away excitedly, looking far too excited to prepare the drinks. I smiled at Taylor as we settled into our seats.

"She's lovely, Taylor," I said, looking over at the bar where Jenny was rushing right and left, mixing the drinks like chemistry experiments.

Taylor smiled fondly at the woman's back. "She's wonderful. I've known her my whole life and I'd be no where if I didn't have her."

I curled up in the chair, bringing a knee up onto the seat. "What do you mean?" I asked curiously. "Are you from here? From New York?"

Taylor nodded and pulled her short dark hair into two small ponytails. "Yep. Lower East Side. Lived here my whole life and I intend to stay here until I'm one-hundred and fifty and liver spotted." Jenny came over with our drinks in large mugs and I smiled at her as I accepted it. After she left, Taylor continued. "It was Jenny here who helped me get the scholarship I have," Taylor said, smiling at her brightly. "I wouldn't be at NYU without it."

I took a sip of my drink. It was delicious. "Hmm, what is this?" I asked, licking my lips. "And that's wonderful of Jenny to help you out."

Taylor took a long drink before replying. "Chai tea latte. And yeah, she's the greatest. My mom died when I was pretty young and my dad works all the time, so when it comes to the important stuff, it's nice to know I can count on Jenny."

She paused and I felt oddly compelled to tell her all of my own personal experiences, from my own father's death to the pressure my mom placed on me, but I refrained.

"Where are you from?" Taylor asked, changing the subject.

"Albuquerque," i said, taking another sip of my drink. It really was magnificent.

"Oh, really? Did you like it there?"

I placed my mug down on the table beside the chair and thought for a moment. Did I like my hometown? Not really. It was quite and although I had lived there my whole life, I had not emotionally invested in anything there.

"No," I decided. "I hated it. I'm glad that I'm here and not there."

Taylor grinned. "Always hoping to get to the Big Apple?"

"Not really," I admitted, running my index finger around the rim of the mug. "Until graduation, I always thought I'd go to Stanford."

"Stanford? Really?" Taylor gaped. "Why didn't you? I mean, I love New York, but California sounds just as amazing."

I looked up at Taylor and considered telling her the truth for one crazy moment. Considered telling her that the reasoning behind my being in New York had all started with what a boy wrote in my yearbook. However, Taylor was just getting to know me and I bet that I would sound crazy if the words really left my lips, so despite my urge to tell the whole story, I told her half of it.

"My whole life had been laid out for me like clothes to wear for church," I began softly. "I graduated with honors, just like my mom wanted, and then I was going to go to Stanford and go through premed; just like my mom wanted me to. After that I would do four years at Stanford Med and so on and so forth. But none of it...none of it was really what I wanted to do."

"Don't get me wrong, I still want to become a doctor, completely and entirely. I just want to do it on my own terms." I stole a glance out the window and watched the clusters of people go by. "I feel like being here in New York...I can actually do it."

Taylor didn't say anything for a moment. "It's the complete opposite with me. My father wanted me to travel, wanted me to get away from the bubble I live in, which I know sounds ridiculous considering I'm living in New York City...but since my mom died, all I've wanted was stability." She sighed.

"My whole life, for once, is completely planned out and I've never felt happier."

Looking at Taylor, I saw the same acceptance and excitement for the future glinting in her eyes that I saw every morning leading up to my flight to New York over the summer. The excitement that I still felt when I looked out my window and saw tall buildings. I leaned over and grasped her hand.

"Well, opposites do attract," I smiled at her and she responded with a smile of her own.

"No wonder you're so easy to talk to," Taylor giggled. "Looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship and partnership, Miss. Montez." She extended her mug and clinked it with mine. "Here's to us!"

"To us!" I replied, ecstatic at the notion that I had finally found someone who on some level, I could relate to.

---

Shakespeare 101, a class I had taken on a whim, which really seemed to be the story of my life. Not Shakespeare; nothing that dramatic has ever happened to me. I mean, doing things on whims. Everything was a whim, my lack of a speech at graduation, my being here in New York, my almost leaving and then staying here in New York. Everything.

However, I had a good feeling about the class. It seemed like something I could really get into, really escape with. Literature, though not my strongest point (the sciences took that title) was still something I excelled in and there were times when I reveled in the written word more than the anatomy of a human being.

It wasn't often, but it was the escapism that truly helped me. Being able to disconnect from Gabriella Montez and become Elizabeth Bennet, Blair Waldorf or Bella Swan instead. To be able to, just a moment, be someone else.

So, yes, I was looking forward to the Shakespeare course, but walking into the lecture hall the first day of classes, I wanted nothing more than to run in the other direction. Not because of the daunting look of the syllabus stacked by the professor's podium and not because it was clear that this class was more work than escapism, but because seated five rows from the back was Troy Bolton.

Now, Troy and I had never been in the same English class ever, so I had no idea whether he enjoyed this stuff or what, but just seeing him there made me feel sick. To think that mere weeks ago, I had anticipated very moments like this in hopes of becoming some more, and all it took was the smallest bit of interaction with him to make me run in the opposite direction.

The notion confused and scared me all at once.

It was a mistake to let my gaze linger on him for as long as I did, for as if feeling it, Troy looked up and broke into a slow smile upon seeing me.

My cheeks flushed violently and I ducked my head down, embarrassed by my obvious staring. Troy gave a little wave and I waved back, despite my brain's protests not to.

Still grinning, he cocked his head to the side, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. Oh my god, he was offering the seat next to him. He wanted me to sit with him. Didn't he?

"Gabriella!" a boisterous voice sounded and I looked across the room to see Taylor bounding down the steps over to me. "Hey, girl, I didn't know you were in this class! Seems like we were destined to be friends, huh?"

I found myself smiling at Taylor's enthusiasm and at the fact that I actually was making friends. Her merriment was also a pleasant distraction from Troy's offer and the erratic beating of my heart.

"Hey, Taylor," I said, smiling, but my eyes darted back to Troy. He held a smile on his face, but it was slowly slipping, as if trying to determine my reaction. His eyes still remained on me, but his brow was slightly furrowed as if confusion.

"I'm going to take a seat up in the front row," she said excitedly, showing the same determination she had displayed in our biology lab. "You're welcome to join me."

As she walked away, I let myself give one last fleeting glance at Troy. His smile had fallen from his face entirely now and he shrugged as if asking what the hold up was. I stared at the empty seat next to his and tried to envision myself being able to the be that in that close a proximity with him for that long of a time. Tried to imagine myself having real conversations with him.

I drew a blank. Any ideals that I had in high school, moments like this that I had dreamed of seemed void and childish. As much as my heart was begging me to go already, take that empty seat next to Troy's and grab onto his own heart, my head was screaming at me to go take a seat next to Taylor and shut the hell up.

While it pained me, the latter won out this time and I broke my gaze from Troy's confidently, knowing that he probably wouldn't care much anyway. My poor brain had done so much for me and I hadn't been listening to it lately.

Maybe it was time I started.

"_I guess I'm learning, little by little, that we decide what our lives are going to be. Things happen to us, but it is our reactions that matter."_

_- Sally Reardon, 'Pilot'_


	4. This All Might Be a Colossal Mistake

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Four: This Might All Be A Colossal Mistake_

---

I ignored Troy for a week after that.

I know, I sound crazy. Why not just embrace it? Take a chance? But there was something pulling me back and it seemed like a stronger force than the one that was pushing me towards Troy. So as I sat studying with Taylor in the library one afternoon and he sauntered in, it didn't feel odd for me to look down upon seeing his figure.

He was still breath-taking, a textbook tucked under his arm and a pencil behind his ear. I smiled to myself softly, thinking to be cute when he caught my eye and waved.

Oh, fantastic. Why did he have to have this affect on me? Why couldn't I just keep my eyes down?

"So, I was thinking we should go out this weekend," Taylor was saying as she highlighted notes. i heard her words, but it was hard to process them with the vision of Troy coming towards me over her shoulder. I ducked my head down and hastily scribbled in my notebook.

"Hey, Gabriella," I heard his name fall off his lips and inwardly, I shuddered. Not looking up, I bit my lip and replied.

"Hi, Troy," I said as softly and distantly as I could manage. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the hand on his textbook tighten.

"Um, haven't seen you around lately," he went on, but I didn't dare look up.

"I've been busy," I said, my eyes still focused on my work. I stole a glance at Taylor, however, who was staring at me perplexed. She looked up at Troy and stuck out her hand.

"Taylor Mckessie," she said brightly. Troy took her hand and shook it and introduced himself before turning his attention back to me. What did he want? Why was I so against whatever it was?

There was an awkward silence as he looked down at what I assumed would be the top of my head.

"Um, guess I'll you later then," he cleared his throat before uttering a 'nice to meet you' to Taylor before taking off.

After hearing the sound of his footsteps fade, I let out a deep breath, one I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My cheeks were burning and I just wanted to hide.

"Okay," Taylor dropped her book and looked pointedly at me. "Who and what was that?"

"Nothing!" I said quickly, too quickly, for Taylor looked at me skeptically. "He's just this boy I know from high school."

Taylor scoffed. "Oh, please, that was not just some boy. First, he was gorgeous and second, you would barely look at him! Just spill!"

"Taylor, he's just this boy from high school and that's it. "Feeling the familiar urge to bolt, I began gathering my things. "I'll see you later."

Walking out of the library, I stood against the wall beside the door and tried to regulate my breathing. Why was this so hard for me? I came here for _him_. Here he was, openly offering me friendship and I was just as openly denying it. What for?

No. Troy and I had gone four whole years obviously knowing the other existed and neither he nor I ever made an attempt to know one another. Why start now? Furthermore, why bother letting him continue to steer my directions, my decisions? I was taking back the control he had no idea he even had.

Glancing down the hallway, my breath caught in my throat when I saw Troy standing against the same wall I was, a bulletin board between us. Staring down at his feet, he ran a hand through his hair before letting out a sigh so parallel to my own before turning on his heel and heading down the hall, his back to me.

This didn't mean anything, I told myself. I would not convince myself otherwise.

---

I probably should have taken what my twelfth grade history teacher said about university more to heart. He was an older man who preferred sweater vests over any other item of clothing, had grey hair and mustache and I think I saw him smile a total of three times over the five month semester.

He was constantly lamenting about university, about the difficulty of it and how one really had to dedicate themselves if they wanted to make it through. At the time, I thought it was just another teacher trying to scare us, as they all had through my entire school career. "They won't let you print once you get to sixth grade! It'll be cursive all the time!" or "They won't put up with this nonsense in high school!"

I was able to print if I wanted to even in the current day and they actually were more tolerant of trouble makers in high school than they were in my elementary school, so I didn't necessarily take my dear old history to heart. Not to mention I could pull essays out of nowhere and take tests without studying for them and still earn a ninety.

If I were to see that teacher now, I think I'd be too stubborn to tell him that he was right, university was a hell of a lot of work...but I would at least admit that it wasn't what I expected it.

It was hard. There was always work to be done; chapters to read and lab questions to finish, essays to write. Everyday was a trying mess and truth be told?

I loved it.

Maybe it was the new friendship I had been developing with Taylor or maybe it was just the general atmosphere that NYU provided, but staying up till three AM and writing a paper was oddly invigorating to me.

Except, after doing this three days in a row and running on, oh, probably about six hours of sleep; I was done. All I wanted, stumbling into the door of my dorm room that night, was go and have a nice, long shower and then flop into bed. Oh, how inviting that sounded.

Walking over to my dresser, I pulled open the top drawer and began digging through it to recover my shampoo and conditioner. In my small toiletries bag, however, they could not be located.

That's odd, I thought, considering I had just used it yesterday morning. Where could it be? I looked in the drawer itself, thinking it had maybe fallen out, but it hadn't. Next I checked underneath the dresser; not there either.

In a frantic, frustrated action, I began tearing apart my room. Underneath my mattress, under the bed, in between books. In the closet. Where was it?

Tugging on my hair in aggravation, I stomped my foot childishly. All I wanted was a shower. Was that really too much to ask?

I heard the click of the door behind me and turned around to see Sharpay standing there, one hand on the knob and dressed in a hot pink bathrobe. Her dripping hair was up in a towel and clutched in her right hand was a soft pink bottle that distinctly looked like my shampoo.

"God, shared bathrooms are absolutely dreadful," she moaned, closing the door behind and letting out an exaggerated sigh. She crossed the room and opened the top drawer of my dresser before popping the bottle of shampoo back in. She turned to me and stared at my gaping expression.

"What?"

I let out a squeal of frustration and stormed past Sharpay, throwing open my drawer. I picked up the bottle and gave it a little shake. It was empty.

I whirled around. "You used my shampoo? Without even asking?"

Sharpay blinked owlishly at me. "Yeah..."

"Why?!" I screeched, feeling my patience slowly slipping away from me. "Why? Why would you do that? Are you really that inconsiderate?"

"I'm sorry," Sharpay scoffed. "We're roommates. What's mine is yours. Sharing is caring. Did you not watch Barney as a kid?"

"Are you kidding? You didn't even ask! That does not equate sharing, Sharpay! That's stealing! Do you even know how expensive this shampoo is? My mom bought it for me as a part of my special going away basket! Now you've used it all!"

"Oh, take a chill pill, Marissa Cooper!" Sharpay placed her hands on her hips. "I do know how expensive it is, thank you very much, which I didn't expect from you considering your hair looks like a dead animal most days!"

With every ounce of my strength, I picked up the empty shampoo bottle from the dresser top and hurled it at Sharpay's general direction. I didn't mean to hit her, but if I did it wouldn't be so bad.

"You are the most inconsiderate, insufferable person I have ever dealt with!" I yelled and then stormed out of the dorm room, slamming the door shut. The hallway was quiet, thank god, and I realized I once again had no idea where I was going.

"Now, now," a calm voice said. "We do not slam doors in Goddard Hall. Did you not read your handbook?"

I glanced up and saw Ryan Evans, the elusive R.A. He was dressed in white slacks and a baby blue polo with a striped hat over his blonde hair. He smiled at me so widely and so sincerely that his eyes crinkled. I felt a smile tug at the corners of my own mouth just because of it.

"I'm sorry," I said, sighing heavily. "I'm just...I'm having a really bad day."

"Ah," Ryan held up one finger and beckoned me towards him. "Let's enter my office and you can tell me all about it. I am the resident adviser, after all. Tis what I'm here for."

I shook my head, not feeling particularly interested in telling a stranger about my conflicting feelings for Troy or my argument with Sharpay. The stress, anger and confusion were staring to burst through the seams of me being, however.

"It's alright, really." I blew my bangs out of my face. "Nothing I'm not used to."

"No, really," Ryan came over and placed a comforting arm around my shoulder and I instantly felt comforted. "Please. I don't want to leave one of my advisees unadvised. I promise not to pry and if you feel like our conversation isn't going anywhere, you can leave."

A part of me really wanted to decline, but another part of me really wanted to accept. Maybe a little bit of conversation would do me some good. "Okay," I said slowly. "But I get to leave if I feel uncomfortable."

"Didn't I already say you could?" Ryan smiled cheekily and led me down the hall to his dorm room. Stepping in, I was surprised to find that it was pleasantly neat and orderly. Plunking himself down on his desk chair, he gestured to his bed.

"Take a seat. Now, I never did get your name..." He paused and waited for me to answer.

"Gabriella Montez," I replied. "I'm from Albuquerque."

"Ooh," Ryan raised his eyebrows. "Very nice. Now Gabriella from Albuquerque, tell me: what is making you slam your door?"

I pressed a hand to my temple and took a deep breath. "You see, about three months ago I did this really stupid thing and that stupid thing has escalated into something I realize I wasn't really ready for."

Ryan stared. "Uh huh. Want to tell me what that thing was?"

"Not really."

"Oh. Alright, fair enough. Carry on."

I smiled. He was definitely still new at this, but I had to give him credit for being so easy going about it. Others could pry so easily without even trying, but it seemed that he was making a conscious effort to make me feel at ease.

"There's this boy," I bit my lip hard, "I kind of have feelings for him..."

Ryan nodded. "There's always a boy and pretty girls always have feelings for them. Continue."

"The problem is...I don't really know him. At all. And even worse...the prospect of getting to know him scares me to death. He's already unknowingly affected such a large part of my life." I paused, thinking about his ability to make me come and stay here all at once. "I'm scared to think of what it would be like if I did get to know him and he turned out to be even better than I imagined and how...how much he'd control what I do then."

Ryan didn't say anything for a moment, staring at the floor thoughtfully. I felt suddenly sick. Maybe I sounded crazy. Who wouldn't want to get to know the person they were allegedly in love with? Only me, only me.

"I know, it sounds weird, but I--" I began, but was cut off by Ryan's hand.

"It doesn't sound weird at all," he smiled again. "Any relationship, whether in the platonic or romantic sense is scary. You set yourself up based on the expectations you have of that person, whether you know it or not. You, however, are smart enough to realize that before it's too late, but I think it's holding you back in more ways than you know."

I took a deep breath. Was my fear of losing my independence really holding me back? Was I being less independent that way? I didn't want Troy to control my actions any longer, but remembering his face this morning and last week when I rejected his silent invitation to sit with him made me feel that maybe I was overreacting.

"You're smart to guard your heart, Gabriella," Ryan began. "Everything at the beginning of university is so new and all your emotions are so heightened. It's smart to reel things in occasionally, but don't let your intelligence hold you back from learning to live."

Learning to live. Wasn't that the real reason I had come here? It was fifty percent Troy Bolton and fifty percent finding myself. Was half of my reasoning contradicting the other half? Was attempting to forget about Troy causing me to lose myself even more?

"I'm no expert," Ryan said softly, throwing me out of me thoughts, "But things will get easier as time goes on. I promise. Though, I have to ask...for something you'll barely reveal anything about, it was still enough to make you slam your door?"

"Oh, no," I felt my eyes narrowing at the memory. "My roommate used the last of my shampoo without even asking."

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yes!" I folded my arms. "She's insufferable, Ryan! She's this blonde bimbo actress type who, I'm almost sure, bathes in the colour pink! Everything on her side of the room is so bright and shiny that it practically blinds me!"

Ryan didn't say anything, another thoughtful expression on his face, his brow creased into a concerned line, so I continued.

"I mean, I tried to be friends with her and she blew me off! First day! She's snotty and sarcastic and just plain miserable! I want out of that dorm, but at the same time, she's so high and mighty that I don't want to give her that satisfaction! I want to make her suffer, too."

"Okay, confession time..." Ryan stood up and walked to his bookshelf, pulling a small silver frame off the top. "That blonde bimbo? Um, yeah, she's actually my sister.

Staring down at the framed picture of the boy in front of me and my roommate, I froze and felt the blood rise to my cheeks. Oh dear god.

"I am so, so sorry," I apologized, jumping up to leave. I had just openly insulted his sister. So harshly, too! I called her a bimbo! "I mean, no offense! She's, um, she's got gorgeous hair and I, um, I'll just, uh, be going now..."

Ryan laughed and placed the picture frame down. "No, Gabriella, sit down. Don't worry about it."

I stared at him, thoroughly confused. "I just insulted your sister and you're telling me not to worry? I feel awful!"

"No, Gabriella," he placed two hands on my shoulders and forced me to sit down. "I understand, really. My sister...isn't the easiest of people to deal with. Even though we are twins, I have a hard time understanding her actions."

I blinked. "You're twins...? But, you're a sophomore and she's a freshmen..."

"It's a long story."

I didn't say anything, sensing that there was something more to the story but knowing better than to pry. After all, he had been more than considerate when it came to my story, and it wasn't my place to pry in his personal life, either.

"Sharpay is a more complicated person that she comes off as," he said quietly, looking at the picture of his sister. "I know it sounds impossible...but I think it's best for you to give her a chance. That boy of yours, too. People can be dreadfully difficult, but sometimes it's worth it in the end."

I stood to leave and smiled brightly at Ryan. "Thanks...you've actually been a great help."

Ryan grinned, clearly happy at his success. "Come back anytime. The door to Ryan Evan's office is always open."

I turned to leave, but stopped when I saw a framed photo of he with his arm around a girl. It was the same girl I had mistaken for Troy's girlfriend three weeks earlier.

"Oh," I said suddenly. "Um, you know..."

"Kelsi," Ryan filled in. "Yeah, she's my girlfriend. You know her?"

I shook my head. "Not exactly, but yeah, we've been introduced. Thanks for everything, Ryan."

Upon arriving back at my dorm room, I was more than pleased to see that Sharpay had vacated the premises. Although I was feeling more calm about the situation after my talk with Ryan, coupled with the new found knowledge I had acquired about her, I was still livid at her. Not to mention, I really wanted that shower. So grabbing my purse and jacket, I hopped out the door and left for the subway.

Public transportation in New York is nothing like back home, where it was all reduced to buses and carpooling. The subway was this whole intricate place filled with so many bustling people here and there that I felt so excited at the prospect of it all. Stepping into the opening doors of the subway, I felt the same thrill pass through me as it did the first time I travelled this way.

As I sat down at a seat by the door, I looked around at the other passengers and tried to imagine what they were like. A blonde boy sat two seats down from me, dressed in flannel and playing with a key ring, almost anxiously. I tried to think about what was making him fidget, was he late? Was he early? Did he have an argument with someone? Was he stressed out?

Across from me sat two teenage girls, a brunette and a redhead, dressed in maroon school uniforms and laughing hysterically. They bantered back and forth, quipping about celebrity gossip. I smiled at them and continued 'people watching'.

There was a little old lady with bags from Macy's at her feet and a stressed out looking business man standing up, constantly looking out the window as if it would make the cart go faster. I laughed and looked the person sitting on the seat beneath where the man was standing and found a pair of curious cobalt eyes staring back at me.

I stopped breathing.

Troy was slouching in the seat across from me on the subway, his legs crossed at the ankles and his fingers intertwined and resting on his lap. Decked in his usual uniform of jeans, a plaid shirt and a hoodie, he watched me curiously and I was thrown back into that biology classroom months earlier when I had caught his unsettling gaze and wondered why he wasn't saying anything.

This time was no different. Our eyes just remained locked, staring each other down intently, yet neither making the move to say anything else. Tearing my eyes away from his like pulling apart two magnets, I swallowed, suddenly very nervous and uncomfortable and stared down at my own hands in my lap.

Why did he have to be on the subway now? Why was fate throwing us together? Sure, I was willing to take what Ryan had said into consideration and maybe take a chance and develop a friendship with Troy, but I wanted to do it with my own terms. This was not at all what I had expected.

I squeezed my hands together anxiously, trying to still my breathing. Just a few more stops and I could get off, get my shampoo and then forget all about this. Just a few more stops.

I stole a glance over at Troy and noticed he had adverted his gaze, but upon feeling mine, he looked back up. He opened his mouth to say something, when all of a sudden, the lights flickered in the car and it lulled to a stop.

My eyes grew wide as the people around me began murmuring and I felt panic rise through my veins. The car had stopped, why had it stopped? Why weren't we moving? Looking at Troy, he seemed just as perplexed, but no where near as panicked as I was.

"Sorry folks," the muffled voice of the conductor said. "We're having some technical difficulties, so hang tight and we'll try to get going as soon as possible."

"Oh, wonderful!" a girl with a guitar and wearing a purple tie-dyed cardigan exclaimed. "Last time this happened, I was stuck on this thing for five hours."

My breath caught in my throat again. Five hours? There was a chance I could be stuck on this subway car, sitting across from Troy for five hours and have absolutely nothing to say to him?

Oh dear, God, I should have just taken a shower tomorrow instead.

"_You know what I definitely believe in? Fate. That things happen for a reason."_

_-Felicity Porter, 'The Force'_

---

"Gabi has to snap out of it soon, Diana! I just want to shake her!" was what my mother said to me after reading this chapter. So, thanks mom for all your input on this chapter.

Thanks to the bestie, again, for listening patiently for over thirty minutes during our writer's craft class about my super lengthy, in depth chapter plans. :)

And thank you to you, lovely readers. The smile you put on my face is brighter than Zac and Vanessa's smiles at a basketball game.


	5. I Deserve a Little Bit of You

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Five: I Deserve a Little Bit of You_

---

My luck was diminishing. I was on a stranded subway car, sitting across from Troy Bolton who I had avoided and practically ignored for the last week. It's funny how things change. Six months ago, I would have been on cloud nine, positively ecstatic at the prospects of being on such a secluded place with Troy. Now I just wanted to die.

I sat there, awkwardly underneath the curious glances he kept shooting me and wanted so desperately for us to being moving again, just so I could get out of here and be home free. Get my shampoo, get home and forget about this.

I tapped my foot anxiously as the people around me mumbled annoyed and angry. Yeah, sure, they were all upset because they had places to go. Here I was, confronted with the very thing that had pre-occupied my mind endlessly for the past few weeks. Yes, I was being entirely selfish, but I didn't care.

Oh, somewhere I made someone really, really mad.

Darting my eyes around nervously, I tried to think of a clever way to move seats far from him and avoid the situation all together. I could just casually get up and stand by the door, as if I was impatiently waiting. But that could give invitation for him to join me.

Why was I making things so complicated? Things shouldn't be this complicated. I risked a glance at Troy and found his eyes on me again. My heart jumped and I was transported back to the first time I laid eyes on him all those years ago.

Entering the ninth grade religion classroom, the first thing I saw were Troy's eyes. Never have I seen such a piercing, light blue such as his. His eyes are the things fairy-tales are made of, and I know I sound like some ridiculous sap, but they truly are. You could drown in their depths and the things you saw in them. His emotions were displayed in his eyes. He was displeased with me right now, I could tell as much. The sparks of anxiety were playing in his orbs that afternoon.

Taking a seat a few rows in front of his, I dared to take a glance back at him. He was a lanky, tanned boy with a thick mop of light brown hair. He was speaking to a friend about something concerning 'pink jelly' and he seemed to be very animated in the discussion.

The boy was beautiful, that's all I could think. He was stunning and all I wanted was a little piece of him to have for myself. As our overweight, bald teacher with a strong sense of humor came in the room and called roll call, it was then that first found out his name.

"Alright, you hooligans," he had said, setting a clip board on his desk. "Mercedes Arnett?" he called and a tall girl with dark hair and a voice of helium answered. She was sitting behind that beautiful boy and staring at his head with interest, giggling with the vapid blonde beside her. I felt myself stiffen. Were these really my classmates?

"Troy Bolton?" he called next and it was then that he raised his hand, almost shyly. His cheeks grew slightly red at the sudden attention on him from each of his classmates, but he brushed it off and grinned confidently.

I never forgot his name, and it seemed that no one else did either. Just as quickly as the days turned from summer to autumn, Troy quickly became one of the most popular boys in our grade. He was on the junior varsity basketball team, volunteered activity on the student council and he was gorgeous. I, on the other hand, was having a vast difficulty making any friends and my only involvements were the math club and the school choir. To say we ran in different social circles was a large understatement.

For the entire duration of the semester, as the lines between us became more defined, I would glance at the clock at the start of class and swallow harshly. There was seventy-five minutes left of class, that was plenty of time for us to maybe have a conversation. Oh, we have group work today, maybe I'll get put in his group. It never happened and we never spoke and I went through that whole semester feeling completely taken by a boy I had never spoken to.

Even then I knew it was irrational, but at fifteen I had more optimism than that and believed that somewhere during the course of four years, there was a chance that Troy and I would become friends and maybe even something more. I felt like, if we knew each other, we could love each other. It was a crazy notion, but in my young mind it made sense.

Over those four years, no such thing ever happened and I can't say I'm surprised. Lines are lines and boundaries are boundaries and very rarely are they ever crossed, especially in high school.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I glanced back at Troy's seat to see that it was now empty and I instantly panicked. Where did he go? Next thing I knew, I felt a warm body of heat and I knew that Troy had come to sit with me. I swallowed hard, shutting my eyes as my throat closed up. What would he say? What did he want?

"Hey," he began, his voice soft and gravelly. I turned to look at him and he shot me a lopsided smile before stretching out his legs in front of him.

"Hey," I said back, just as softly. My eyes met his and he looked away, quickly, finding something more interesting on the floor to focus on rather than me.

"So, are we really going to sit here and play the 'I-See-You-But-I'm-Pretending-I-Don't' game?" he joked.

Twisting my hands in my lap, I chuckled nervously. "I can't say I've ever really played."

"Now, now, that's not true!" He said, his voice turning slightly bitter. "You and I have been playing it for over a week."

I didn't say anything, completely unsure how to respond. He was right, we were engaging in something as immature as that, but I didn't consider it a game. I didn't mean to make it seem like I was trying to manipulate him. But if he really came over just to give me a piece of his mind, I really didn't want to hear it.

"Sorry," I said, gruffly. "But if you came over here just to make me feel bad, then I hope you won't be too offended if I switch seats."

"No!" he said suddenly, and my eyes darted over him. He had shifted in his seat, his upper body turned towards mine. "Don't. I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

I settled back down in my seat feeling bashful. The same uncomfortable silence settled in between us and I stared at the black window, wishing desperately that the car would spring to life and that we would be moving again.

Troy shifted in his seat again, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "So," he rubbed the back of his neck. "How have you been?"

Fiddling with a strand of my hair, I didn't dare meet his eyes. "I've been doing well, thank you." I dared a glance at him. He wasn't looking my way. "And yourself?"

"I've been alright thanks. Are you enjoying the Shakespeare class?"

Oh, he just had to bring that up, didn't he? "Yes, very much so. It's very in-depth and interesting. You?"

"No," he let out a guffaw and sat back up, slouching in his seat. "I hate it. It's too damn hard and I just feel like I'm wading my way through mud trying to make sense of it all. It's not working at all, by the way."

Pursing my lips, I focused on the condom advertisement on the wall across from me. "Oh."

There was a beat that passed between us while I prayed to god that he wouldn't point out the elephant in the room. Wouldn't bring up how I had brushed him off like a fly on the wall.

Of course, with the day I was having, I shouldn't have been surprised when he exhaled and looked at me before asking, "Want to tell me why you didn't sit with me in class?"

I flushed a deep, ruby red, my mind swirling. Why was he bringing this up? "I didn't think it would matter," I answered honestly. Why should it?"

Troy shrugged, sitting up and staring out the window across from us as I had moments before. "I don't know. I just was hoping to get to know you a little better. To be completely honest with you, I wasn't expecting to get blown off by you so blatantly."

I stiffened. "I wasn't blowing you off."

"Yeah, you were," he chuckled. "But it's okay. I know you probably still see me as one of those jock types."

I paused. He thought what? "I'm sorry, what do you mean?"

Heaving out a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. For a moment, I looked past his exterior, the shiny hair and tan skin, and saw the dark circles under his eyes and the way he bit his bottom lip, as if holding something back. The same stress and confusion I had felt these past few weeks seemed to be reflected in his visage. The very image shocked me.

"You know, in high school. I was the jock type, the basketball guy. Never bothered with anything else or anyone else. It's okay if you see me like that, I understand," he bit his lip again and looked down. "Lots of people did...do."

My heart jumped in my chest and I sprang up, instinctively placing a hand on his arm. "No, Troy, it's not like that at all!" I practically yelped. "I've never thought of you as just a jock type! Not even once!" My blush grew deeper. "Not that I've, you know, thought about you in-depth or anything like that! I just, um, never, not once." I took a deep breath. "I know there's more to you than that."

Troy stared at me hard and the look made me grasp onto the sleeve of his shirt. "How can you say that, when you claim that I don't know you? You don't know me either."

"That's true," I admitted. "But I'd like to think that from the brief glimpses of you I've seen throughout the years, that I'm right. More than that," I swallowed, "More than that, I'd like to get to know you better, too."

"Then why didn't you sit with me, Gabriella?" He pressed, his eyes pleading. "It was an open invitation. Why would you just blow me off and then proceed to _ignore me_ for a week if you want to get to know me better?"

"Because!" I said, my grip still tightening on his sleeve. "Because you and I have spent four years knowing the other existed and not once did we ever both to try and get to know each other. What's changed? Why now, what's different? I can't help but think that it's just the familiarity of Albuquerque that I...that _you_ hold that makes us want to be friends now of all times."

"It's not like that for me, Gabriella," Troy said slowly, looking me straight in the eye. "So we wasted four years not being friends. Let's not waste another. You intrigue me, you really, _really_ do. I really want to get to know you better." He looked away.

"I wouldn't have tried to convince you to stay if I felt otherwise."

I stared at his profile for several seconds, thinking. Had he really just said that? Did it really just happen? Would it look weird if I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. A million thoughts ran through my head, ones focusing on the fact that Troy really, sincerely was interested in being my friend, even after all these years and others that were registering the fact that we still weren't moving.

What was I doing? Had I really been denying him all this time? What was wrong with me? Had I been inhaling too much of Sharpay's perfume? This wasn't meant to be hard. Relationships, platonic or otherwise take work, but they're impossible when one party forces them to a standstill. Had I really done that?

"I'm making this far more complicated than it has to be, aren't I?"

Troy broke out into a grin. "A little bit, but it's understandable, given the circumstances." His gaze darted down to my fingers gripping his sleeve and I instantly released them.

"Sorry."

He shook his head. "No need to be. It's not a big deal."

Neither of us said anything for a moment, and I noticed the girl in the purple cardigan pull out her guitar and begin playing. She sang a soft melody, most likely to pass the time, but it filled my ears and I found my heart rate slow as she sang, a calm coming over me for the first time in weeks.

"_Have you seen yourself today? Would you recognize your face? Can you tell me what to say? Mine's lost without a trace," _she sang softly and I turned slowly to comment on her voice to Troy, only to see him staring intently at me.

"What?" I asked curiously, growing wary as a smile spread over his lips.

"Do you remember that blood drive we had in tenth grade?" he asked, so randomly that I sat back in shock, desperate to find some hidden meaning to his madness.

"Um, sort of. Why?"

He smirked. "I volunteered there and um, I held a vile of your blood."

I gaped at him. "I'm sorry, how is this irrelevant and why are you bringing it up?"

He laughed. "Oh god, whenever I'm around you I sound like such a creeper."

Ha, if only he knew.

"What I mean to say, is I distinctly remember it because right before you handed me that little vile of blood, you were talking animatedly to the nurse while she took it. I don't know if it was because you were nervous at the prospect of giving blood or whether it was because you were generally interested in her day, which you asked many questions about, but I remember thinking: I want to get to know this girl."

He smiled almost sadly. "It only took me two years, but I think we're finally on the right path."

A slow smile crept on my face at his words and warmth filtered through my body. I leaned back in my seat, feeling light-headed and elated at his words. "Is that how you remember me?" I joked. "The girl who wouldn't stop talking when she got her blood taken? I was really nervous, just so you know." The fact that Troy had thought of me at all prior to graduation was exhilarating and I couldn't help but feel that maybe I had wasted four years being too scared to talk to him. I really had wasted the last four weeks by not giving him a chance and embracing the potential friendship.

"I figured," Troy laughed. "And for the most part, yeah, but also…"

Just as suddenly as it stopped, the subway car whirred to life and we began moving once again. The rest of the patrons in cheered, clearly overjoyed at the prospect of motion, but I bit my lip, feeling disappointed.

"Ah, we're moving," Troy stated the obvious, shoving his hands in his pockets and gesturing his head towards the window. I nodded, almost solemnly, disappointed that he had not continued, but not wanting to pry. If he really wanted to finish that sentence, he would have done so. So I let it go.

"Yeah," I glanced at the destination board above the doors. "Next stop's mine."

Troy grinned. "Same here. I'll walk you out, okay?"

I shook my head. "Oh, no, it's not necessary."

Shrugging, Troy stood as the car lulled to a stop. "Maybe, but I want to. Let's go."

Stepping out side by side with Troy, I took in a large breath of fresh air and stretched my legs, enjoying the feeling in my cramped muscles. "How long do you think we were on there?" I asked him as we walked along the concrete.

"I don't know," Troy said, walking in step with me as we climbed the steps back to civilization. "Maybe an hour." As we finally made it back outside and onto the streets of New York, I stole a glance at him as we stood there awkwardly.

"So," I began.

"So," he answered.

And then I laughed and he laughed with me. I really couldn't believe it. Here I was, standing on a street corner of New York City with Troy Bolton, whom, with some luck, I was going to be legitimate friends with. The absurdity of it all coupled with the fact that I never thought something like this were ever to happen made me practically giddy with the reality of it all.

Grinning at Troy, I fiddled with the strap of my purse. "You know for that Shakespeare class?" He nodded. "Well, I'm actually pretty good at it. If you ever need any help or even if you just want to hang out, my dorm room is always open."

Troy gave me a sly look and shot me a smirk and I backtracked, flushing. "I mean, oh, forget it. You know what I mean."

He laughed again, stepping closer to me. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he grinned brightly. "But I hope you know what you just got yourself into. I'll be over at your dorm possibly all the time now.

I grinned back. "I can handle that."

Troy glanced over his shoulder. "Well, I'm going to head back to the dorms. My friend texted me half an hour ago to tell me that he had gone home. Got sick of waiting with me. I'll see you later, okay?"

Nodding, I waved and watched as he turned away to walk home. His lanky figure twisted and bounced down the street and I realized that I wasn't ready to let him leave just yet.

"Hey, Troy!" I shouted, jogging to catch up to him. He turned around and looked down at me.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking a little perplexed.

I bit my lip. Here goes. "Um, are you doing anything right now?"

He didn't answer right away and instead looked at me curiously, as if wondering if I was the same person on the train. Was I? I felt different, truth be told. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I felt lighter, freer.

"No," he said slowly. "Why?"

Shuffling my feet, I balanced my weight from one foot to the other. "My roommate, you know the one who I said was kind of a bitch? She used all of my shampoo."

"Okay…" he blinked, waiting for me to get to the point.

I sighed. "So I need to get some more because I don't want to go around looking like I don't bathe. Did you want to come with me?"

Troy ducked his head down and smiled, bashfully. Biting his lip, he nodded. "Sure thing, Montez. Gotta make sure you pick out the right one for your crazy locks of hair."

My mouth fell open at the way he mocked me, but I found my heart pounding with anticipation. As we fell in step with each other and his forearm brushed mine, I felt like I was finally doing what I had set out to do by coming to New York in the first place. Ryan was right: by holding onto this misconception I had about Troy and avoiding him, I wasn't able to move forward.

This subway ride, it had remarkably fixed things. Now, as we argued about which drug store to go to, the one across the street or the one two blocks away (I wanted to go to the one across the street, for efficiency reasons. Troy wanted to go to the one two blocks away, simply because he had a larger candy section), I felt like I finally had control over my life, my actions, my decisions.

I felt kind of like I was living.

_"I've become a real believer in not defining every single thing. Seems like everytime you think you've figured out what something is, it just becomes something else."_

_- Sally Reardon_

---

When I first told my mom that the 'transitioning/connecting' chapter for Troy and Gabi's relationship was going to take place entirely on a stalled subway car, she kind of looked at me strangely and said, "What are you going to possibly make them talk about for four thousand words?"

I kind of stuttered and bashed my head on the kitchen table, realizing that I very little clue. This, however, was not the reason this took longer than expected but more that I just wanted to get it right. I'm pleased, overall, how this came out. :)

So yes, now Troy and Gabi can begin the course to awesome friendship. Things are going to get super fun from here on out.

Fans of Felicity will recognize a certain character and a certain song this chapter. :)

BTW, Zac and Vanessa at the Golden Globes last weekend? SUPER AMAZING, OH DEAR GOD. I am not ashamed to admit that my desktop background is totally the picture of them with Megan Fox and Zac holding Van's purse. LOVELY.

ETA: Moments after posting this, I checked the status for my application for a certain university and was very delighted to see that I was accepted. :D It was my first choice and I got early acceptance, so I am overjoyed. Just wanted to share.


	6. I'm Not Going to Be Your Girlfriend

---

**The Distance Between Us**

Chapter Six: I'm Not Going to Be Your Girlfriend

---

My Shakespeare professor scared me more than anything I had encountered in my entire life.

I'm not saying this lightly.

The grey haired man would stand at the front of the podium for two hours and something odd minutes that was the duration of the class and lecture us on old William's works meticulously. It was very similar to every single one of my other classes. Only it wasn't.

The eloquent way he spoke injected fear into my veins, his voice a low baritone and his vocabulary extending beyond anything I'd heard before. He was an impressive man, that much was remarkably certain and he never let a moment pass without making it known. He had a penetrating stare that he'd use to glance about each one of us students that seemed like if you looked too close into his piercing blue eyes, he'd kill you with his gaze. He never smiled and he never laughed and quite frankly, it was disconcerting.

"More than half of you are not ready for this," he declared the second day of classes. Since then the idea that pertained scared me almost as much as he did. He was known for his difficult marking scheme and the fact that his students dropped out of his course like flies. I was determined not to be one of them.

So when we received our first assignment back, I was practically trembling in fear, my legs feeling numb as we anxiously awaited our grades. I could feel Troy fidgeting beside me, restless and nervous like me, as he bobbed his leg up and down.

I had moved seats the day after we got stuck in on the subway together, feeling more confident in myself and in Troy. I had invited Taylor to join us, but she had politely declined, not wanting to give up her seat front row, centre. With a smile in her direction, I boldly, but shyly approached Troy and asked him if the empty seat was still available, to which he grinned and answered yes.

It had been easier than I had thought, transitioning from being strangers to acquaintances to something like friends. Friendship with Troy was remarkably simple. He was ridiculously warm and inviting, seemingly just as interested in getting to know me as he had claimed. He had a comfortable air around him and I found that conversation between us flowed quickly and seamlessly. He had a dry sense of humor and a self-depreciating nature, something I had noticed in high school, but never witnessed first hand.

It made me all the more attracted to him.

Since our conversation on the subway a week earlier, we had already made time to hang out and study after classes four times. We alternated between hanging out in his dorm room (which was surprisingly neat) and mine. Sometimes we'd just go for walks or get hot chocolate and fries at Jenny's. Afterwards I would glow in the excitement of it all, practically dancing around my room with joy. I couldn't get enough of him. Here I was, hanging out with him in his dorm room, sitting on his bed when mere months ago I was praying he'd even talk to me.

Now we were friends.

Together we sat in class, more nervous than ever and wanting to propel ourselves out the window just to break the tension surrounding the anticipation of receiving back our grades.

Then it happened. On the table in front of me, my demon-like professor dropped my paper, which made a loud smack as it hit the surface. I let out a soft gasp, feeling like a bomb had gone off instead of paper hitting wood. Cautiously, peeking out of one eye I peeled the paper off the desk and let out a sigh of relief.

The bold red letters read 87%.

Troy, however, did not seem so relieved.

"Ah, damn," he cursed. I glanced at him and he tossed his paper in front of me. He sighed, exasperated and ran a hand through his hair.

"Sixty-four isn't terrible, Troy," I said, handing the paper back to him. "For this professor, it seems excellent." The students around us were groaning and slumping in their chairs after receiving their own papers back and one girl with a curly mop of hair looked about ready to burst into tears.

"Yeah, well, it's not good either. What'd you get?" He scooted closer to me to read over my shoulder. "Eighty-seven. I don't even...I...I hate you."

I giggled softly as our professor finally dismissed us and the feeling returned to my legs. Standing, I waved at Taylor and she made her way over to us, looking particularly upbeat.

"Hey, Gabriella! Troy!" she exclaimed brightly. "I love this class."

Troy gaped. "Are you human, Mckessie or just insane?"

Taylor rolled her eyes, unimpressed at his lack of enthusiasm for what was quickly becoming her favourite thing in the world. "Someone do poorly on the assignment?"

I shook my head. "No, he's just being dramatic."

"Have I mentioned that I hate you today?" Troy glared at me and Taylor laughed.

"Only one or twice." I stuck out my tongue. "Just wait, though. You say that now, but you'll be begging me for help soon and I'll just deny you."

"Yeah, we'll see about that," Troy huffed, folding his arms. "How'd you do, Mckessie?"

Flashing her paper in front of her eyes she smiled a dazzling grin, her eyes lighting up. She had scored a 93%. Troy's eyes doubled in size. "Shit, you did better than Gabriella."

I threw my arms around her, knowing how much her grades meant to her. The conversations we had during the first few days of our friendship had told me as much. "That's wonderful, Taylor!"

"Thanks!" She grinned again. "You did well, too! Both of you," she gave Troy a pointed look. "Now I'll be off. I have a research paper due in three weeks and I'll be damned if I'm not done in two days. See you guys later."

As she walked in the opposite direction, we stepped out of the building and began to make our way over to Goddard hall, falling in step with one another.

"So did you want to go maybe work on this stupid new assignment he just gave us?" Troy inquired, dodging patrons as we walked down the crowded street. "I know you don't have anymore classes today."

"Ah, ah," I shook my finger at him. "I told you. I'm not helping you."

Troy pouted, jutting out his lower lip. "Ah, come on, Gabi. Please?"

I stopped walking then, as did he and the people around us swirled and blended into one massive blur, though he stood out amongst them. He called me Gabi. It was what my dad had called me and he had passed away years ago. No one had called me that since. Hearing it again brought back a wave of nostalgia and warmth. The familiarity of it and hearing the name fall from Troy's lips made my cheeks flush.

"You okay?" He asked, knitting his brows in concern.

"You called me Gabi," I spoke softly, clutching my books to my chest, staring him in the eye. He bit his lip and scratched the back of his neck.

"Um, do you mind?" His eyes darted around nervously. "I mean, nothing wrong with Gabriella, but I figured this was shorter and more...I don't know. I can stick to Gabriella if you'd like."

He seemed so concerned that I'd be offended that I couldn't help but smile at his discomfort. "It's fine, Troy. I like it."

"Are you sure? Because I have no problem with --"

"Troy!" I laughed. "It's fine."

A slow smile spread across his lips and we resumed walking. "Okay, _Gabi_," he said, testing out the name. "Proposition for you. Would you like to go get something to eat before this study session that will most likely break my brain? I for one, need some fuel."

I nodded. "That sounds great, but I left my wallet in my room, so we're going to have to grab that first." We had arrived at our dorm building moments earlier and as we ascended the steps to our floor, we argued over where to dine.

"We're going to eat Jenny out of house and home," I said as we made our way to my room. "Or at least potatoes."

Troy groaned. "Alright, fine. Want to make the trek up to Veselka?"

I shrugged. "Might as well. I've only been there once or twice, but I've liked it."

"Well, since you don't want to go to Jenny's, I'm going to have to insist. It's only fair." He joked as we arrived at my dorm.

"Hey," I protested, "Who's helping who here?" As I turned the doorknob and stepped in to my room, I paused and Troy crashed into me.

"Gabi, what are you doing," he asked and my hand flew up to cover his mouth.

"Shh!" I hissed, looking him squarely in the eye and gesturing back to my room. Filtering through the crack in the door was a soft voice, singing.

"_So long, put your blue jeans back on, girl. Go home, remember Hollywood's not America_," the voice sang and sticking our heads into the room, I couldn't help but let out a shocked gasp when I saw that it was Sharpay.

Her voice was beautiful and strong and I couldn't help but marvel at the fact that something so pretty was coming from someone so ugly.

She stood with her back towards us, swaying softly. "_You could make a million dollars or you could lose yourself_," she continued to sing. Troy and I watched her quietly from the doorway, slightly in awe.

"She's got an amazing voice," Troy hissed to me and I nodded in agreement.

"I knew she was an actress, but not a singer. I'm kind of stunned," I admitted and at that moment, Sharpay twirled around, but stopped when she saw us standing in the doorway. She froze and her eyes grew wide.

"What the hell are you doing?" she spat, panicked. She rushed towards the door and glared. "Who is this?"

Troy raised a hand in greeting. "Hi, I'm Troy."

"Shut up!" She rolled her eyes. "I didn't ask you! What did you think you were doing, Gabriella?"

I raised my hands defensively. "Um, getting my wallet?"

Sharpay threw her head back and laughed and I feared for her sanity slightly. "No. You were being a creeper in the doorway. Don't ever do that again."

I swallowed, uncomfortable and shot a glance at Troy. "I'm sorry, you just...you have a lovely voice and I wasn't expecting --"

"Just forget!" She yelled and I was startled to see her lip trembling. "Just get out and don't talk about things you don't know!" With two quick strides she walked forward and slammed the door shut in our faces. I gaped at the wood in front of me and sighed when I heard the lock click.

"My wallet..." I murmured and Troy laid a comforting hand on my arm.

"I'll buy," he then patted me on the head and I couldn't help but oblige as we began to make our way back out the building. "You know, I thought you were maybe exaggerating when you said she was a bitch."

"And now?"

"Let's just say I'll never doubt you again.

---

Across the room, Sharpay was opening and closing her dresser drawers loudly, banging here and there. I winced and cast an apologetic look at Taylor who was tapping her pencil in an annoyed fashion against her textbook as we sat on my bed, attempting to study.

Letting out an irritated huff, Sharpay slammed the top drawer of her dresser shut, making the bottles on top shake. She snatched a bottle of perfume and sprayed it in the air of obnoxiously, walking into the cloud and fanning herself. Taylor rolled her eyes.

"Hey, Princess," she said, aggravated. "Do you mind maybe not polluting the air around here?"

Sharpay ignored her and picked up her oversize handbag from the floor. "Gabriella?" she asked, not looking me in the eye.

I took a deep breath. "Yes, Sharpay?"

"Can you tell your little friend here to shut up?" She was standing beside her closet now, going through piles of shoes and attempting to decide between a pair of quilted black flats and tan fringed boots.

I highlighted a line in my textbook. "You can tell her yourself, Sharpay."

Having decided on a pair of pink Christian Louboutins instead, Sharpay instead waltzed across the room and flung open the door. Troy stood there, fist poised to knock along with a dark skinned boy with matching hair a few feet behind him.

"Uh, hey, Sharpay," he said politely. He looked past her into the room. "Uh, is Gabi in here?"

Sharpay threw her hands up in aggravation and tore the door open even further so he could see Taylor and I sitting on the bed. I waved bashfully. He grinned.

"Hey, Gabi. Taylor."

A sly smile spread across Taylor's lips slowly as she turned to me with raised eyebrows. "Nice to see you again, Troy. Who's your friend?

"Oh!" Troy pulled his friend up beside him. "This is Zeke, my roommate. I figured it was about time he got an introduction."

"Hey, nice to meet you both," Zeke said pleasantly, raising a hand in greeting. He glanced at Sharpay. "Hey, Sharpay."

Sharpay's eyes widened slowly and she turned to me and glared. "Gabriella?"

I slammed my textbook shut and counted to three. "Sharpay, please stop trying to address my friends through me."

"Can you tell your little boyfriend here to not come around unannounced? Especially with visitors?" With one final glare, she pushed the boys aside and stalked out of the room. I dropped my head into my hands and sighed.

Since Troy and I had stumbled upon Sharpay's little performance two days earlier, she had gone from being unpleasant to down right intolerable. She constantly seemed in a bad mood and wouldn't address me unless there was a negative reason behind it.

Closing the door behind him, Troy looked at us, confused and made himself comfortable on my desk chair, Zeke positioning himself on Sharpay's bed. "What's her deal?"

"Yeah," Taylor agreed. "What has gotten your roommate in such a tizzy? Is she usually such a bitch?"

I pressed a hand to my forehead. I had wanted to be friends with my roommate, imagining swapping secrets and generally having a constant slumber party, but life with Sharpay had been the exact opposite. "I don't know. She's been in a bad mood these last couple of days. I don't know why."

"She needs to lighten the hell up," Taylor said, shifting on the bed. "I can't stand her."

"Hey, now," Zeke said defensively. "It's not fair to judge her based on just a couple of days of bad behavior."

I stared at him. "Um, hi, Zeke, I know we just met and all, but I feel like I should tell you that she's never been nice to me."

Zeke raised his eyebrows. "Maybe she doesn't have a reason to."

The room went oddly quiet and Troy picked up an eraser off my desk and chucked it at Zeke's head. "Hey, man," he said. "Don't be an ass to my friends or you're cut from my Christmas card list."

Zeke closed his eyes and reopened them, smiling bashfully. "Sorry, I didn't mean it in the way you thought I did."

I nodded slowly, taken slightly aback by Zeke's impulse to rush to Sharpay's defense. It felt like there was more to the situation than met the eye, but I didn't want to press for details.

"Any reason for stopping by?" I asked and the boys exchanged a glance.

"We come bearing great news!" Zeke said enthusiastically and the wide smile on his face erased the tense moments that had just occurred. I liked him instantly.

"Unless you guys are busy," Troy said cheekily. "Then we could come back later."

Taylor shook her head quickly and I elbowed her in the ribs, trying to get her to appear at least slightly less enthused about the situation. "Oh, no, it's not a bad time at all!"

Troy looked at her with raised brows before darting his eyes over to me for confirmation. I nodded my head. "Yeah, it's fine. We were just doing some last minute studying. What's the news?"

"Okay," Troy clapped his hands together, "We spoke to the Ryan, you know, the R.A.?" Ha, if only he knew. "Well, he agreed to let us throw the first Goddard Hall dorm party of the year. Sound sick or what?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "You can do that?"

Zeke laughed. "Yes. And we are here to cordially invite you both to our humble soiree with will most likely include a keg and some lame games of beer pong. It's not for a couple of weeks, but Troy here wanted you two to be the first ones to know."

Troy flushed slightly. "Well, yeah, mostly cause you're super organized and can probably assist in making some complicated spreadsheet for keeping score at beer pong. You guys in?"

Taylor grinned at me excitedly. "Are you kidding? Of course! Right, Gabriella?"

I nodded slowly. A party? My first college party! The proposition seemed ridiculously exciting. "Sounds awesome! Wait," I paused. "How illegal is this?"

---

It didn't matter how much time I was spending with Troy, because the majority of it was spent studying and I mean _actually_ studying. The boy had a work ethic that I hadn't expected and was highly motivated to conquer the evil that was our Shakespeare class. Returning to my dorm later that day from his, I had an extra bounce in my step as I turned the key in the lock.

I couldn't help but be ridiculously excited for the party. Thoughts of music, dancing and just socializing were pushing me over the edge. I hadn't attended parties in high school preferring to not deal with drunken girls and boys with a dash of peer pressure thrown in here and there. But something told me these would be different. The thought of spending the night with Troy flashed through my head and I smiled.

Pushing open the door, I was startled to hear the sounds of someone crying. The room was completely dark except for the streams of moonlight seeping in from the window, illuminating Sharpay's silhouette

She was curled up on the comforter of her bed, heels of her palms pressed against her eyes and her body was shaking from sobbing. I bit my tongue, unsure of how to continue and closed the door behind me with a soft click.

"Sharpay?" I whispered softly. "Are you okay?"

The crying ceased immediately and Sharpay sprung up from her bed. "I'm fine! What are you doing in here?"

I folded my arms around myself uncomfortably, feeling out of place. "I live here."

"Shouldn't you be spending the night at your boyfriend's or something?" she spat, scrubbing her cheeks furiously.

"He's not my boyfriend," I said meekly and that seemed to set her off even more. She smacked her hand down on the comforter and I jumped.

"What do you want, Gabriella?" she hissed and she looked so tired, so miserable that I didn't know what to say.

"I, um, the other day...You have a beautiful voice." Maybe compliments would be the way to go.

She stood up from the bed then and threw the lights on. She was dressed in Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and a black camisole, her eyes red rimmed with mascara trailing down her pretty face. She looked broken.

"Oh, shut it," She folded her arms across her chest and glared. "I don't need your bullshit."

I licked my lips. "Are you okay? Do you want me to get Ryan?"

"No!" She snapped. "Why would I need you to go get the R.A.?"

I searched her face incredulously. "He's your brother."

"So what? I don't advertise that information and I sure as hell don't talk to him," she walked towards the door and pulled it open. "Stay out of my business, Gabriella."

"Where are you going?" I asked, desperate for her not to leave in the state she was in. It wasn't fair to her.

"I don't know," she said softly and she looked so sad, so childlike that I had to resist the urge to pull her in for a hug. "I'm just getting the hell out of here."

A second later the door slammed shut and I was left alone.

"_Sometimes in a relationship, going through hell isn't so bad if you come out of it a little stronger. The same is true about friends." - Sally Reardon_

---

I meant to have this up forever ago, but school suddenly decided to be a bitch to me like never before and it was just awful. I managed to prevail, though, so I'm pleased. :D

Also, I have to say thank you, thank you, thank you to the girls over at ZA Angels for naming this fic of the week! I was so excited, it was the first thing I said to my bestie at school. :)

Thank you to the bestie and my mom, as per usual for helping condense this chapter. It was originally going to be two, but then when I realized the chapter plans weren't that concrete and were mostly filler (One of the lines in the plan was, 'Troy and Gabi discuss some things', yeah, that's riveting), so we made the executive decision to take all the important aspects and make them one.

I hope to have another chapter up this weekend because I love what I have planned for the next one.

Thank you all so very much for your support. :)


	7. You Look So Small Just Sitting There

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Seven: You Look So Small Just Sitting There_

_---_

"I feel that I may need to remind you," Ryan said, glancing up from his clipboard, "That you cannot under any circumstances sell goods and or services from your dorm room. I don't care if it's essays, candy, a call-service or pot, it's not allowed and I will report you."

A collective groan was heard throughout the common room and Troy, Zeke and I exchanged amused glances. The three of us were hauled up for a floor meeting held by Ryan, whom after the barbeque incident, had taken to holding them weekly. Taylor had opted out of the mandatory meeting, insisting that we give her the cliff notes version later. She had a 'study session' with a computer obsessed R.A. from Kelvin Hall and would be damned if she missed it. While we out and out promised to take 'detailed, thorough notes' and relay every bit of information to her later, I'm pretty sure none of us were really listening.

While, at least I wasn't.

Seeing Sharpay in tears two nights earlier had shaken me to the core. She had been so..._vulnerable_. When I awoke the next morning, her bed was made and the scent of Vera Wang's '_Princess_' floated in the air, Sharpay already gone. Then, upon returning home hours later after classes had commenced for the day, she went from being snappish with me to ignoring me completely. I couldn't help but wonder not only what I had done to deserve such behavior, but more what had caused it.

Three things about Sharpay I knew for certain. One, she was a bitch without a cause. Two, she thought she was all that and a bag of chips. The third and most recent one was that she had a reason for her behavior, one that I hadn't quite figured out yet. Either way, it was taunting me and I felt more compelled to tear off her layers than the desire I had been harboring that wanted me to punch her in the face.

Watching as Ryan spoke animatedly, I recalled how he had told me that things regarding he and Sharpay's relationship were 'a long story', which basically translated to really complicated. She had flat out said she didn't speak with him. How could they not speak to each other? They were siblings; they lived in the same dorm. It seemed like such a foreign and impossible concept to me.

"Also, I assume you've all heard about the party next week. There are some ground rules regarding it," Ryan gave us all a stern look and ran a hand through his floppy blonde hair. "I'm not naive enough to even bother telling you guys to keep it sober, but the list of rules is being passed around to each of your dorms and if you plan on attending, you should sign it. Or die. Whichever you prefer."

Troy leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Sounds like he's in the mafia." I giggled and nodded, shooting Ryan a smile and he waved back. He take the role of resident advisor too seriously at times, but he definitely gave me some solid advice all those weeks ago. He could be in the mafia and I would still be forever in debt to him.

"Now, most importantly," Ryan stood gallantly and gestured to three large objects underneath a black cloth. "It's time to announce some exciting news. I would like a hush in the room, please." The common room went silence, each of it's occupants eagerly awaiting the mystery underneath the cloth to be revealed.

Ryan cleared his throat. "If you so please, residents of Goddard Hall, third floor, you may enter your name in the one, the only: Refrigerator Lottery!"

In one swift movement, he ripped away the large cloth and revealed three mini-refrigerators. A gasp was heard and everyone began clambering all at once. The thought of having ones very own refrigerator in their very own rooms was apparently remarkable and wonderful, even though we were all on meal plans. I glanced at Troy and Zeke and wasn't surprised to find them in deep conversation, gesturing wildly to the fridge in excitement. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Only three of you lucky residents will be chosen, but they are fully working and slightly amazing," Ryan beamed and smacked the top of one. "I received them as a very generous donation from the deli down the street, so I suggest you all go there to stock them up with meat and poultry if you are so lucky as to win one. With that notion, this meeting is adjourned."

Everyone began to leave and usher back into their respective rooms. I turned to my companions, who now seemed to be planning out a battle strategy.

I wrinkled my nose. "Please tell me you two aren't going to make a big deal out of this."

Zeke gaped at me. "I'm sorry, Gabriella, but were we not at the same meeting? We have a chance to win a fridge."

I stared. "So?"

"Gabi, a fridge! A _fridge_!" Troy shook me by the shoulders gently. "This is epic! This is phenomenal. Zeke and I could have our very own _fridge_!"

"Yeah, I get that," I said as we began to make our way out of the common room. "But what would you put in it? We're all on meal plans and dirt broke. It'd just be empty space."

They exchanged a glance and then looked at me. "Oh, Gabi," Troy shook his head. "So logical, so naive, so _wrong_." He clicked his tongue as if berating me. "I don't care what you think or say. My life goal is to now obtain one of those refrigerators. Screw my degree. Screw everything. I just want a _fridge_."

"That's your new life goal?" I laughed. "You want a fridge? I have one of those back home; they're not that big a deal."

"You, woman, are insane," Zeke said. I narrowed my eyes at him and he shrugged. "What? You don't want a free fridge. You think it's a waste of space. I'm sorry, but in my books that qualifies as insanity."

I watched as the two turned down the hallway to their dorm room. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I called after them.

"Hey, I may be insane, but at least my life goal isn't to get a fridge!"

"Don't be mocking my ambitions, Gabi!" Troy called back. With a grin and a wave he disappeared.

---

"I'm sorry, but what is that?"

I stared down at the plate in my hands and looked back up at Troy. "Um, pizza?" I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. "What does it look like?"

As I took a seat on my floor beside Troy, he took the plate from my hands and examined it. "It looks like it isn't edible. Did you make this in the microwave?"

Picking up my textbook, I shot him a look. "What was I supposed to make it in, Troy? The giant pizza oven in the dorm's kitchen? It's frozen pizza! Yes, I made it in the microwave." I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He had the plate very close to his eyes and was poking at it suspiciously with his index finger.

"Hey! Don't poke at it!" I snatched it out of his hands and drew it protectively to my chest. "What are you, a child?"

Troy laughed and leaned back against the frame of my bed, folding his hands in his lap. "Gabi, it looks gross. I refuse to eat it."

I looked closer at the offending object. The cheese did look kind of suspect. "What was I supposed to do? It's the only thing left in the kitchen that was labelled with my name. _You_ don't even have any food in there. We have to eat something."

"You know," Troy began, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. He waved his hand in front of the air, gesturing to nothing with grandiosity. "If say, you or I had a mini-fridge, we could store our own food and not have to rely on microwaves."

Throwing his arm off, I stared at him. Where did this boy get his logic. "That...that doesn't even make sense. It wouldn't make a difference and, Troy, we'd still have nothing to put in the fridge."

"But we'd have the fridge," he drawled out. "it would call to us to make use of it. We would make an effort to fill it. We could have fresh fruit, dairy. We wouldn't have to eat frozen food that tastes like cardboard and looks like vomit. I say we rig this competition and get us a fridge!"

"Troy!" I yelled. "We're not going to get a fridge! And really, it's not that big of a deal!"

Troy's jaw dropped open. "Not a big deal? Not a big deal? This is only my life goal, Gabriella!" With that he launched himself at me, enveloping me in his grasp and his hands darted to my waist where he mercilessly began tickling me.

"Troy!" I choked out in fits of giggles. "S-stop, I-I can't...!"

His arms were locked around me and despite the discomfort I was feeling around my waist from his fingers harsh movement, I felt elated. We had had little to no physical contact prior to this, but as his fingers roughly ran up and down my sides, I felt a spark shoot through me.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

Our movement and laughter stilled. Slowly, I looked to the door and saw Sharpay standing there, one hand on her hip and tapping her foot. We broke apart.

"Um," I glanced at Troy who was rubbing the back of his neck. "We're just studying."

Sharpay rolled her eyes and kicked her heels of before stalking to the other side of the room. "Yeah, uh huh. Like I buy that dribble. I thought I told you to tell your boyfriend not to come over unannounced."

I sighed. "I thought _I_ told _you_ that he _wasn't_ my boyfriend," I glared at her. "And this isn't just your dorm room, Sharpay."

She didn't answer and I slumped back against my bed, defeated. Her bad mood still hadn't lessened as the days went by and I was beginning to wonder if she'd ever go back to being casually bitchy to me and not just full on ice queen.

Beside me, Troy was peering at her with interest. He seemed to be examining something and I could practically see the gears working in his head.

"Hey, Sharpay?" She turned around slowly, but did not address him, instead choosing to stare at him blankly.

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Troy continued, as if he was just talking to anyone and not the horror that was my roommate. "You're related to Ryan, the resident advisor, aren't you?"

Her eyes tripled in size and she turned to me, furious. "You told him?" She exploded and I brought my hands up defensively, my head turning sharply to look at Troy. How had he known?

"No!" I exclaimed. "I didn't! I, um, how did you know?"

Troy looked around the room, his eyebrows furrowed. "They look practically identical, have the same last name and there's a picture of the two of them on her mirror." Upon inspecting the mirror myself, I realized he was right. In fact, I had noticed the same photo the first day I moved in here. Why had it taken _me_ so long to put two and two together?

Fiercely, Sharpay ripped down the photo of her and Ryan. She glared at Troy, lips pursed and eyes hard. "Yeah? So what if I am?"

Putting on his sweetest smile, Troy folded his hands and continued. "Do you think that maybe, just _maybe_, you could put in a kind word to him about myself and one Zeke Baylor's candidacy for a mini-fridge?"

I had opened my mouth to stop him, but it was too late. The words were already out of his mouth and now there was no going back. Oh, god, why did he have to be such a _boy_? Why did he have to be so fixated on this refrigerator lottery? He had seen Sharpay explode. Why did he have to perpetuate it?

Slamming her hands on her dresser, Sharpay turned around, her back to us. She didn't say anything for several seconds before spinning on her heel and grabbing her purse off the floor. She snapped her heels back on, before looking at us pointedly.

"Gabriella," she began, her voice thick with disdain and upset. Her eyes were large and watery and her lip was trembling, from anger or hurt, I didn't know.

I swallowed cautiously. "Yes, Sharpay?"

"Can you tell your little boyfriend here to go to hell," she said weakly, her voice wavering. "That I do not talk to my brother, so there is no way in hell I can get him an friggin' refrigerator."

She walked away then, her shoes clanking against the floor. "And even if I did speak with him," she said, one foot out the door, "I wouldn't in a million years even think about suggesting him as a candidate."

With that she slammed the door so hard that the bulletin board above my desk fell down with a thump. Pressing a hand to my forehead, I glanced at Troy, who was staring at the spot she had occupied moments ago, perplexed.

"Look what you did," I let out a sigh. "Now she'll never get out of this mood."

"Hey, Gabi?" Troy was still staring at the back of the door.

"Yeah?" I asked, rising to go fix my bulletin board.

"Why does she think I'm your boyfriend?"

I blushed. "I don't even know, Troy. I don't even know."

---

**BANG.**

That was how I woke up shortly after one AM later that night. Sitting up straight, my eyes darted around my room, my heart pounding furiously. Oh my god, what _was_ that? My mom was constantly worrying about me here in New York, convinced that someone was going to break into my room and kill me. Maybe that was about to happen. Oh dear god.

I heard the rapid clicking of shoes on the hardwood floor and looked up to see a female figure there, staggering around the room. One second later, she collapsed to the floor. What in the world?

Moving quickly, I flicked the light on my night-table on. The figure hissed at the harsh lightening and I squinted, waiting for my eyes to adjust. When they did, I was shocked to see Sharpay sprawled out on her pink rug, moaning.

"Sharpay!" I exclaimed, yanking the covers off and running to her side. I rolled her over and she belched in my face, which was highly un-lady like. Her eyes snapped open and she glared at me.

"G-go away, Montez," she spat at me and I could smell the harsh scent of alcohol on her breath. I cringed. She was drunk. Really, really drunk by the looks of it.

"Sharpay, you're drunk," I said, shifting her, trying to get her to sit up. She did so poorly, leaning against her desk. Her skin was damp and her eyes bloodshot.

She laughed humorlessly. "No s-shit, sherlo-ock," she clapped her hands obnoxiously. "You figure that one out all by y-yourself? No wonder you managed...you man-naged to get into NYU. Way to fucking go, Gabr-ella!"

I had no experience with drunk people. I wasn't a party girl and no one I was related to was a heavy drinker, so this was new to me. Still, I had watched movies, read books and well, they had to have gotten those ideas from some sort of reality.

I sighed. "Sharpay, we need to sober you up," I scooted down and brought my hand to her ankle, pulling off one stiletto heel. She kicked at me.

"Don't touch my shoes!" she screeched and I pressed my hand against her lips, trying to silence her.

"Sharpay, shh! There's people sleeping!" She bit my palm in response and I yelped, drawing back.

"L-leave me alone, Gabriella." Her voice and eyes were dark and I felt a shudder run through me. She looked so broken. "Go back to your little Albuquerque bubble with your little brainiac friends and jock b-boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," I protested meekly, even though now wasn't the time. "Sharpay, sit up. I'm getting you some water."

I walked over to my side of the room and pulled a bottle out from the small case I kept under my desk. When I turned around to face her, I was startled to see tears on her cheeks.

"Just leave me alone, Gabriella," she said for the second time, weaker now. "Just...let me...let me be. I can't take this. I can't...I don't know why I came here." She pressed her hands to her face and sobbed. "I hate this so much. Hate being alone. Hate it! What did I think I was proving?"

She looked at me then and smacked her hand against the floor, hard. "Why did I come here, Gabriella?" she yelled and I was by her side again immediately.

I pulled off her other shoe and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, hoisting her up and lying her on her side on her bed near by. I uncapped the bottle of water and forced to up to her lips.

"Take a drink," I said softly as her hands clasped around the bottle like a child. She took slow sips and her breathing began to slow. Running a hand over her hair, brushing it out of her face, I felt my heart clench. What I had assumed about Sharpay before was correct.

She was lonely.

"Everything will be better in the morning. Now just try and sleep it off," I said as her eyes slid closed, the bottle slipping from her grasp. Moments later, she was asleep, but I remained perched on the side of her bed, worried that I may wake up to find her dead.

Sharpay had been awful to me, but seeing her in the state she was in...I wasn't immune to it. If I had left her alone, I would have been as bad as she was. Frankly, if that was true, I couldn't live with myself.

I woke up the next morning to a soft voice whispering my name. Lifting my head up, I realized I had fallen asleep sitting by Sharpay's bed, my head pressed against her night-table. Glancing to the side, I saw her peering at me from over her bed.

Running a hand through my hair, I yawned. "How are you feeling?" I asked and she rolled over, pressing a hand to her forehead, but didn't say anything. Standing up, I slipped on my robe and told her I would be back with coffee in a minute and for her not to go anywhere, though I was certain she would.

However, She was still sitting there when I came back with two mugs in my hands. I handed one to her and she accepted it gratefully. Sitting at her desk chair, the two of us sat in silence for a few minutes before she opened her mouth to speak.

"Thank you," she began slowly. "For last night. I'm sorry I caused such a ruckus."

I shrugged, taking a sip of my coffee. "It's not that big a deal. It's college. These things happen."

She shook her head. "No, really. Thank you," she picked at a loose thread on her duvet. "After the way I treated you, most people would just leave me for dead." She looked me in the eye. "Especially lately."

I bit my lip, not wanting to pry, but feeling like I had to in this case. "Can I ask why you've been so testy lately?" I paused. "I mean, I know you don't like me, but since Troy and I walked in on you singing the other day, you've been a nightmare and as your roommate, I feel you own me an explanation if I'm going to continue living with you."

She didn't say anything, instead choosing to pluck the picture she had ripped off her mirror the other day off her dresser and hand it to me. It was the one of she and Ryan.

"I've never told anyone this," she began softly. "And I don't particularly know why I'm telling you, but I am," she glared. "So shut up, sit tight and listen, cause I am only telling this story once."

"As you know, Ryan's my brother." I nodded, waiting for her to continue. "As kids we did everything together and I mean everything. We played sports together, we took dance lessons together, went to art classes. Everything. We were born performers, loved being centre stage, the centre of attention." She swallowed and focused on something out the window.

"Once we got to high school, none of that changed, it only grew. We took our love for performing and became this unstoppable duo in the theatre department. We sang duets, were in over nineteen school productions. I sang and composed and he choreographer. It was he and I. A team."

"You were close," I concluded, trying to piece together the problem. "Then why don't you speak to him now?"

Sharpay scoffed sadly, not meeting my eyes. "In our senior year of high school, we both applied and auditioned for Juliard. Myself for vocals and he for choreography. Juliard had been my dream for as long as I could remember. It was the number one performing arts school, the one place where I could perfect my craft. I could sing and dance my heart out there. However, when acceptances arrived, there were two envelopes in our mailbox and his was considerably larger." She bit her trembling lip. "He got accepted and I didn't."

I glanced down, twisting my hands in my lap, trying to imagine the situation. I was an only child, sibling rivalry was never an issue for me. But sitting across from me was a girl who had her life ruined because of it.

She had begun to cry again, softly this time. "And you know the worst part?" she choked out. "He didn't even want it. He deferred. Decided to come here, to NYU instead. I was a mess, my passion for singing gone. I wasn't good enough and my dream wasn't even good enough that my brother didn't even want it. I hated him and when he went away to university a year ago, I stayed behind, trying to put back the pieces of my life together."

I scrunched my brow. "So how did you end up at NYU?"

She swallowed, not meeting my eyes again. "I decided that I wanted to prove to him that his dream was nothing. That my being here was as easy as one, two, three. That I could do just what he had done and I could take it away just as he had done to me. I never thought he'd end up my resident advisor." She laughed bitterly.

I stood then, walking over and sitting next to her on the bed. "You know, Troy and I were really impressed by your voice," I said softly and when she looked at me, I saw hope in her eyes.

"Really?" she asked, unsure. I nodded reassuringly.

"Really! We were blow away!" I smiled. "Nothing holds Troy's attention for more than a few seconds and he was riveted! He was just as enthusiastic about as he is about this fridge lottery."

Sharpay laughed. "Can I tell you something?"

"You've kind of already told me a lot of somethings."

She laughed again and I realized that I liked the sound. "That's true. Anyways, you know Zeke? That boy that came by our room the other day with your not-boyfriend?" I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off. "He's a guitar player. Brilliant one, too. I came to New York early this summer to do an internship at _Nylon_ magazine and we met a company function where he was working with the catering company. We've gotten together and performed a few times. I love it."

I smiled. "Then you should pursue it, Sharpay. Don't let one bad experience ruin your life. So Juliard missed out on a great singer, their loss. You can still persevere. You can still be the best you can be."

She smiled sadly at me. "I'm sorry, Gabriella. For the way I've been treating you. You didn't deserve it."

I shrugged. "Well, we're still in the adjustment period. I can let it slide if you promise to lighten up."

"I'll try my best," she grinned. "Though if you keep bringing that not-boyfriend of yours and your friends around unannounced, it may be difficult."

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "I could do that, or you could, I don't know, just smile and join us once in a while."

Her eyes lit up. "Really? You'd actually want to hang out with me?"

I looked down, embarrassed. "Well, yeah. Why not? We're roommates, after all. Though," I paused. "It may take some time to convince Troy and Taylor that you're not Satan's advocate."

Sharpay rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up, Gabriella."

It wasn't a promise of friendship. It wasn't even a promise of being civil, but it was a start. Sitting next to Sharpay and knowing that she was just as insecure, just as lonely and she as scared as I was made me feel closer to her.

Things would be different from then on. I could feel it.

---

I couldn't tell you what led me there, but something did. Walking aimlessly through the streets of New York, while oddly calming was, well, aimless. I walked past vintage shops and designer stores, past hot dog stands and parks. Somehow, though, I found myself walking by a randomly placed basketball court a block from Goddard Hall. Stopping, I stood by the chain link fence and curled my fingers around it, staring absentmindedly at the court.

Sharpay was just as insecure as I was. She had come to find herself in New York just as I had. The revelation was stunning and I couldn't wrap my head around it. Faintly, I recalled my first thoughts upon seeing her picture on my first day moving into the dorm. I thought that she was as lonely as I was.

I had been right.

Now, however, I wasn't lonely. I had friends. Taylor, Troy, Zeke, even Ryan and Jenny. Each were a new person in my life that I hadn't had before. What did Sharpay have? Broken dreams and a messed up relationship with one of the most important people in her life. Watching as a basketball flew through the hoop of the net, I thought for the first time since coming to New York, that was I was truly lucky.

I scanned the court and that's when my eyes fell on him. His hair was flopping around as he ran about the court, dressed inappropriately in jeans and a hoodie. Troy was on the court, practicing.

In high school, basketball and Troy were rarely heard without one another in a sentence. It was his identity, what he was known for. His father was the coach and he was the captain and he was amazing. Though I never attended one of his games, I heard remarkable things and made a point to read every caption about them in the local newspapers.

"Troy!" I called out, clutching the fence. He jerked around, startled, but relaxed when his eyes landed on me. I waved and he called for me to come over. Walking around the fence, I made my way onto the court.

"Hey!" He said, happily, albeit out of breath. "What brings you here?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I was wandering around and ended up here. Practicing for something? Or just letting off steam?"

"Practicing, actually," He brushed his bangs out of his eyes before continuing. "Try-outs for the NYU team start next week and I'll be damned if I don't make it. It's even more important than the mini-fridge."

"It ranks before the mini-fridge? Sounds like a big deal." I commented, noting the nervous way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He seemed apprehensive and I realized it probably was a big deal. He wouldn't get by just on teamwork and charisma alone anymore. His actual talent was being tested. He had plenty of it, so what was there to worry about?

"Yeah, it kind of is," He admitted. Then he spun the ball on his index finger and despite my crummy mood, I knocked it off, sending it bouncing behind him. He gasped at me, outraged.

"That's it, Montez. You're benched." He pointed to the bleachers across from us and begrudgingly, I shuffled over to them. He laughed. "You don't really have to sit over there, you know."

I waved my hand nonchalantly. "It's for the best," I said, taking a seat. "I can't play to save my life and will just get in your way. You don't mind if I watch, do you?"

He shook his head and I settled down, watching him dribble up and down the court. His form was flawless and he seemed like he was gliding on air. Why had I never bothered to watch him play before? It was a wonderful sight. He seemed relaxed. Calm. Free.

"We didn't get a fridge, by the way," he said suddenly and my eyes darted up to meet his. "It sucks so hardcore."

"I'm sorry," I said, bitting my lip. "I know how much you guys wanted one."

Troy shrugged. "Ehn. It happens. Wasn't meant to be.

A beat passed between us before I felt my mouth opening at it's own accord. "Hey, Troy?" I asked softly. He stilled the ball in his hands and turned to me.

"What is it, Gabi?" He cocked his head to the side. "Are you okay? You look a bit down."

I leaned my elbows on my thighs and rested my head on my palms. "Sharpay kind of threw a revelation on me today," I admitted while Troy dribbled the ball absentmindedly.

"What? She was born a guy?" Troy cracked and despite myself, I laughed.

"No," I leaned against the fence positioned behind the bleachers. "She just admitted some things. Came home drunk last night. It really...it really gave me more insight to who she is."

"A drunk?"

"No! Troy!" I felt exasperated. He was trying to lighten the mood, but it was difficult when I was feeling so miserable for the girl and was so unable to articulate this fact. "It just....she explained why she is the way she is. It made her human. I was able to relate to her, Troy." I paused. "I feel like she and I could be friends now."

Troy didn't say anything for a moment, shooting the ball towards the net. It soared through the hoop and bounced back into his hands. He turned toward me and stared.

"What?" I asked curiously. He was looking at me in this peculiar way, as if I had three heads but also as if he had never seen me before.

He smiled. "You're not like anyone I've ever met."

I flushed hotly, feeling warmth spread on my face and neck. "What? What do you mean?"

Tucking the ball underneath his arm, he came to sit next to me on the bleachers. Leaning against the fence as well, he turned towards me and locked his eyes with mine.

"Just that...she treated you like shit, Gabriella," he began slowly, "Personal issues or not. And you...you have no reason to be nice to her, none at all...yet you still want to reach out to her. Still want to be her friend. It takes a remarkable person to do that."

I didn't say anything as his eyes searched my face. His words were making my heart bounce all around my chest like a ping pong ball and I was trying to think of simple words to form a sentence, but nothing seemed to fit.

"T-thank you," I stuttered out. "Um, is that the appropriate response? I, um, don't even--"

"Coming from you, Gabriella," he smiled brightly and pulled me into a one armed hug, "It's the perfect response. Now let's go get some hot chocolate. I'll buy."

Without another word, he stood up and bounced off the bleachers, gesturing with his head for me to follow. Slowly, I grinned and followed him, just like I'd done so many times before.

---

Three hours, two hot chocolates and a plate of french fries between us later, Troy and I had finally gotten kicked out by Jenny who was attempting to close up for the night. I felt better. I felt warm and I felt full and somehow able to face this Sharpay thing head on and move forward.

When I arrived at my dorm, however, there was something blocking the door. A rather large something.

"What in the world...?" I thought aloud. Stepping closer, I realized the object was rectangular, bulky and stopped at my mid-thigh. Stepping down to inspect it, I found a note attached, scrawled on expensive stationary.

"_Shar_," it read, "_Figured you could use this. Ryan_."

Setting the note down, I ran my hand over the top of it's surface.

It was a refrigerator.

" _It's one thing to say you're gonna let go, it's another to actually do it--to loosen your grip and let yourself fall."_

_-Felicity Porter_

---

Thank you so much to the best friend for helping me with pacing and flow. I was so concerned that things were moving too quickly that I planned to scrap nearly a whole arc of the story before she told me otherwise. So yes, thank you for deliberating this matter with me over the phone for nearly twenty minutes. :)

A few of you have been wondering/wanting me to write from Troy's perspective and while my mom is urging me to pull a Stephenie Meyer and re-write this from his perspective, that's not going to happen. See, the thing is, if I let you guys in Troy's head, if you were to learn what he was thinking...well, that would ruin everything I have planned. That just won't do.

As for things to come next chapter, I gotta ask:

Any of you ever play Assassin?


	8. The Last Round

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Eight: The Last Round_

---

Why was Hitler able to come to power in 1933 and not in 1923?

This was the question I was pondering over as I took notes from my ginormous history textbook, trying to make sense of a thesis I had constructed in high school that answered it completely. Unfortunately, I couldn't for the life of me remember.

It was a little after ten on a Saturday morning and I was stuck doing homework. Two days had passed since Sharpay had confessed all of her life's issues to me in a hungover state and much to my surprise, we were actually civil to one another. We were actually behaving like something close to friends. It was weird; weirder than when Troy and I had made the transition from strangers to friends, but I equipped that to the fact that Troy had always made an effort, whereas Sharpay had never bothered before.

Just while I was contemplating information about propaganda and Beer Hall Brawls, a rapid knock on my door threw me out of my thoughts. With the constant interruptions I was experiencing lately, I might as well drop out now because there was no way I was going to pass this year.

"It's open!" I called, then bit my lip. I had to stop doing that. What if it was an axe welling murder?

I saw a tuff of sandy brown hair and was relieved to see that it was just Troy, poking his head in the doorway. His head searched about the room and he grinned when his eyes fell on me.

"Hey, Gabi," he said, closing the door behind him as he entered the room. "Working hard or hardly working?"

I pressed a hand to my temple, feeling stressed out. "A little bit of both," I turned in my chair to face him. "Quick! Tell me why Hitler was able to achieve power in 1933!"

Troy's mouth fell open slightly and he flopped against my bed. "Um, because..." Suddenly, he froze and his body turned to the rectangular object beside my desk. His eyes turned to slits.

"What is that?" He asked slowly, standing up from his spot on my bed.

I jumped up from my desk chair and sat on the floor in front of it, spreading my arms out in an attempt to hide the refrigerator. "Nothing! Nothing at all!"

Troy stomped over to where I was. "Don't give me that, Gabriella!" He said and nudged me out of the way. He gave an overdramatic gasp and glared at me. "You got a refrigerator and you didn't tell me?!"

I rolled my eyes. What was with this kid and the refrigerator? "Troy, it's just a fridge."

"Gabriella!" He exclaimed. "I have told you time and time again. It's not just a fridge! I can't believe_ you _of all people got a fridge! You didn't even want one!"

I sighed and sat up from my position on the floor, taking a seat back at my desk. "Yeah, well, since Ryan is Sharpay's brother, I guess he gave it to her as a peace offering or something."

Troy gaped. "You mean he just _gave_ it to you? You didn't have to fight for it like the rest of us?"

I shrugged. "Entering your name in a draw does not equate to fighting for it, Troy. And I don't know. I guess so."

Truth be told, Sharpay hadn't even noticed the fridge and I was keeping it soundly on my side of the room, away from her angry eyes. Whether she just wasn't saying anything about it or she really was oblivious, I didn't know, but I wasn't about to bring it up. I stared at Troy, who was looking at the fridge in envy.

"Oh, Troy, get over it. You're distracting me." I sighed, feeling my stress levels rising again. "Was there a particular reason you decided to come in here other than harass me over my newly acquired appliances?"

Troy folded his arms. "Yes, actually. Ryan just announced that there's a floor meeting in the common room in...three minutes." He pulled me off my desk chair and dragged me to the door. "So if we are done discussing the unfairness of your refrigerator situation, I suggest we head on over there before we get murdered."

I looked longingly at my homework. "But...so much work to do!"

"Which will still be there when you get back," he opened the door and pulled me outside. "Now let's go."

As we made our way down to the dorm room, our arms brushed and I didn't pull away and neither did Troy. The warmth of the physical contact spread through me and I felt another thrill ignite my veins. But like every other time I felt these weird feelings with Troy, I brushed it off.

People had already gathered in the common room, eagerly awaiting Ryan to announce what he had to announce so we could all get back to our regularly scheduled lives. Troy and I spotted Taylor sitting on an armchair and she waved us over. Troy and I sat down on the love-seat adjacent to her. I leaned over Troy, attempting to pump Taylor for information.

"So," I began, "Any idea what this is all about?"

Taylor shrugged, looking perplexed and confused. "No idea. But," she pointed to an object on the table. "Ryan has a box."

"Ooh," Troy said, mockingly. "A _box_. Does this mean he'll get us to do another lottery, only to just give away the item to his sister again?"

Taylor frowned. "What's he talking about?"

I sighed. "He's still bitter about the fridge lottery."

Troy glared. "Did you know she got a fridge? Do you know_ why_ she got a fridge?"

Thankfully, before he could divulge more information about Sharpay that I'm sure she wasn't keen on people knowing, Ryan entered the room with a board smile on his face. He was dressed in head to toe black and wore a matching knit cap and sunglasses.

"Good afternoon, residents of Goddard Hall. I have an announcement to make," He grinned brighter. "Or rather, a mission to assign to you all."

He opened the box and dumped out nearly a hundred yellow plastic guns loaded with orange darts with little suctioned ends. The room broke out into a chatter and he motioned for us to settle down."

"The name of the game is Assassin and it's pretty simple," he began. "Each of you will be given a piece of paper and on that piece of paper will be a name. Maybe it will be of someone you know, maybe it will be of someone you don't know. The idea is to get to your target and shoot them when they are unsuspecting. If you are shot, you are to give the person who terminated you the name of the target you are currently possessing and so on and so forth."

I glanced at Troy. "Ever play this?"

He shook his head and rubbed his hands together, eagerly. "Sounds like fun, though."

"The point of the game is to get to know one another a little better," Ryan explained. "We've been living here for nearly a month now and we know very little about each other, never mind our names. As a floor, I feel it's important that we change that and at least can put a name to every face in this room. So if you'll please, line up and receive your gun and your target. The game will end at midnight tonight, so good luck!"

When we finally got to the front of the line, Ryan handed me a dart gun and a piece of paper with a smile. "Good luck, Gabriella," he said, giving my hand a squeeze. I grinned back at him.

The three of us began to make our way out of the common room. Troy and Taylor opened their pieces of paper while I shoved mine in my pocket."

"Jason Cross," Troy frowned. "No idea who that is."

"Oh damn," Taylor said. "I don't even know who this is. Olivia Lalak. Do you know who she is?"

Troy and I exchanged a glance. "No idea," I answered as Troy shook his head.

"Ah, but isn't that the point of this game?" Troy said, waggling his gun. He was going to have too much fun with it, I could already tell. "To get to know each other better?"

Taylor rolled her eyes. "I don't care. I don't even want to play this stupid game. One of you just shoot me now."

I laughed. "Taylor, you can't just do that. It doesn't work this way."

"Well, fine then!" Taylor threw her gun in her purse. "I'll just walk around defenseless." She shook her cropped hair out of her eyes and proceeded down the hallway. "I'll talk to you guys later. If anyone mentions that they have my name, be sure to mention where my dorm room is to them, okay?"

"I'll be sure to let them know," Troy joked, giving her a salute as she walked away. He nudged his shoulder with mine. "So, you going to go all Bond Girl on your target, Gabi?"

"No, I'll leave that ridiculousness to you," I stuck my tongue between my teeth. "Did you feel like hanging out later?" I stopped as we came to the dividing line between the pathway to his dorm and mine. "We have that paper due in class next week. It might be nice just to get some cramming in."

He nodded. "That sounds good. I'll see you later then, Gabi."

When I arrived back to my dorm room, I realized I still had yet to read the name of my target. Pulling the slip of paper I had hastily shoved in my jean pocket, I unfolded it and read it. My eyes grew wide as I read the name on the piece of paper.

_Troy Bolton._

Troy was my target.

Oh, the implications of that sentence.

---

"What is that?"

I glanced up from my work, still trying to construct a thesis. Sharpay was standing by my desk, hands on her hips. She was dressed in a pair of skintight black skinny jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt. She was wearing black leather fingerless gloves and ankle boots and a pair of mirrored aviators, her hair in a tight knot at the back of her head.

"What's what?" I asked, surveying her outfit and stifling a giggle. "What are you wearing?"

"That!" she pointed viciously to the refrigerator in the corner. "What is that?"

My eyebrows rose upon the realization. "Oh, that. That would be the refrigerator your brother so kindly donated to us out of the goodness of his heart. You know, the one you refuse to talk to."

She clicked her tongue and walked to the other side of the room, slipping a belt around her narrow hips. "Why'd he do that? We don't even have anything to put it in. It's completely useless"

"That's exactly what I kept saying! But I put an apple in it to take up space!" I exclaimed as I watched her clip her dart-gun to her belt. "Seriously, Sharpay, why are you dressed like that?"

"Why did he give us the fridge? I don't even want it! Ughh that tool!" She turned around to face me and adjusted the sunglasses on her nose. "I'm dressed like this, Montez, we are playing an intense game of Assassin and just so happens that I am determined to win."

I slumped against my desk. "One week, someone's determined to win a fridge, the next a game of Assassin. Why do I surround myself with crazy people?"

Sharpay glared. "Oh, ha ha. Laugh it up, Gabriella," she strode to the door and opened it. "You just watch. I'll get you. And your little boyfriend, too!"

"Not my boyfriend!" I shouted as she closed the door and it slammed behind her. A moment later, another knock was heard at the door and I slammed my head against my desk.

Taylor appeared in front of me, frazzled and upset. She slumped against my bed. "Your roommate just shot me!"

Peeling my head off my desk, I spun around in my chair to face Taylor. "Is that so?" I asked. "Well, congratulations. I know how much you wanted to get...shot."

Taylor furrowed her eyebrows. "I was so unsuspecting! So naive! She said hi and then WHAM!" She smacked her hand against the duvet for emphasis. "She shot me! Just like that!"

"Taylor, what's the big deal?" I inquired. "Just two hours earlier you were complaining about how you wanted out of this game and quick."

"Yeah, but," Taylor ran a hand through her hair. "Now it's different." She paused. "Who's your target? I promise not to tell."

I looked at her suspiciously. "Promise?" She nodded to confirm the situation. "I got Troy."

Taylor gasped. "No you didn't! Oh, wow, this changes everything. This isn't just a game to you anymore."

"What are you talking about, Taylor? Of course it's just a game."

"No," She shook her head. "It isn't. With Troy as your target...well, you _know_ him. You and he, you _hang ou_t. It's _personal_. This is a game of strategy, of loyalty. You shoot those you are ruthless to. Sharpay? She doesn't know me. You? You know Troy. You shoot him and you are literally stabbing him in the back."

"Taylor," I said, laughing. "It's hardly that dramatic."

"No, Gabriella, it's exactly that dramatic." Looking up at Taylor, I realized she was serious. "This is a seriously big deal and you're going to have think long and hard about how you're going to make your move and how you'll do it. If not, it could have dangerous implications. People get really competitive over this kind of thing. Especially people like Troy, I mean, he used to play basketball, didn't he?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah..."

"Exactly," she stood up to began to leave the room. "Just keep that in mind. Also, fill Sharpay's shampoo with some green to get her back for shooting me."

"What does she shooting you have anything to do with me?" I exclaimed.

Taylor sighed, leaning against the doorway. "It's all about loyalty, Gabriella!"

She closed the door behind her and I was left to my own thoughts. Was shooting Troy a big deal? Taylor was right, he had a competitive streak, but he was an athlete. Surely it wouldn't perpetuate into anything more than that? But seeing Sharpay dressed in her all back attire and even Taylor's shock at getting shot when she didn't even want to play...maybe this was more than just a game.

Maybe it was more than getting to know each other. Maybe it _was_ a game of loyalty, where the lines of friendship were more defined. Maybe in shooting Troy, I would skew those lines and ruin everything we had built thus far.

The thought scared me.

Still, it was absurd. The thought that a friendship could be broken over something as trivial as a game of Assassin. Still, I had heard stranger things. This was ridiculous.

Glancing at the piece of paper with Troy's name on it, my hand clenched. It was absurd, ridiculous, crazy.

Wasn't it?

---

The time was nearing three-thirty in the afternoon as we sat cross-legged side by side in my dorm room, our knees touching, Shakespeare notes open in front of us.

Troy was chattering away at something and I couldn't understand any of it. There was a pounding in my ear unlike anything I had experienced and my hand closed over the dart-gun in my pocket.

He was so close, so unsuspecting. All I had to do was pull the gun out of my sweatshirt and in one shift moment, I would pull the trigger and shoot. That was all.

It was easy. It wasn't complicated. It was just a game and I had just gotten really unlucky. This really had nothing to do with loyalty or friendship or any of the bullshit Sharpay had thrown at me earlier. I didn't need to take it this seriously.

I just had to shoot him.

But what if she was right? What if this game was exactly that? What if Troy saw my shooting him as a sign of disloyalty? From what I had seen in high school through his basketball days, he was all about teamwork and working together. What if this betrayed his exact ideals of a good friend?

Why, more importantly, was I overanalyzing this?

"Gabi? Gabriella?" Troy waved a hand in front of my face. "Are you okay?"

I snapped out of it, shaking my head slightly. "No, ah, I mean, yeah," I flushed. "Just sort of dazed off there."

Chucking to himself, Troy leaned back against the frame of my bed. "I figured. You seem tense. Rough day?"

I swallowed and doodled on a scrap piece of paper in my textbook. "Not exactly." All I had to do was shoot him.

"Ah," Troy scratched the back of his neck. "Okay, I guess. So, the party's in a couple of days."

I glanced up. I had completely forgotten about the party. "Oh yeah," I said thoughtfully. "I kind of forgot about it."

Troy looked disgruntled. "Are you going to go?"

I looked at him curiously and he rubbed the back of his neck again. "Well, yeah, of course. Why?"

I swore it seemed like he flushed, but it happened so quickly that I also could have sworn I imagined it. "No reason. Just...the more the merrier you know."

"Um," I swallowed awkwardly. "Okay."

"So um," he glanced around the room. "Did you shoot your first target yet?"

Oh, leave it to him to bring it up. I didn't say anything. What was I supposed to say? No, I haven't because that target just happens to be you and I feel like if I shoot you I'm breaking some kind of unwritten code between us that I'm not even sure exists?

"No, I, um, haven't." I dared a glance at him. "You?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Jason's a cool guy, actually. Then I got Nelly Yukie down the hall. Caught her while she was in the common room. It was too easy."

It was too easy. Oh, god, it _was _too easy. My fingers closed themselves around the dart-gun again. Just quick and painless. I just had to get it over with.

"Who is your target, anyway?" Troy grinned cheekily. "I promise I won't tell them."

"Actually..." This was it. This was my moment. I was going to--

But then faster than I had ever imagined, the door to my dorm flew open and Sharpay was standing there, her hands poised around a gun. In one swift movement, she pressed down on the trigger and before I could blink, an orange dart was suctioned to my collarbone. I looked down at it and gaped.

"I've been hit," I said weakly, letting my head fall against my bed. Seconds later, Troy's curious face loomed over mine, grinning.

"Sharpay just killed you," he said obviously and I lifted my head to see her blowing imaginary smoke from the barrel of her gun. She swung it around her finger.

"Jacqui, that insane redhead from down the hall had you as her target," Sharpay explained, looking at her manicured nails nonchalantly. She stepped forward and pulled the dart off of me, popping it back into the gun. "I caught her in the library. She thought she could hide, but oh, no. Not from me."

She extended her hand then, wiggling her fingers towards me and I knew what she wanted. My stomach dropped out from under me and I shook my head.

"No," I said, panicked. If I gave her my target, not only would she be able to shoot Troy like that, but then he'd know that I'd had him all along.

Sharpay rolled her eyes. "Gabriella, give me your target. You're dead. Bolton here is my witness." She turned to Troy and gestured at me with her gun. "She's dead, right? You saw me shoot her. Tell her she's dead. She'll listen to you."

Troy smirked and patted me on the arm. "Gabriella, you're dead."

I let out a heavy sigh. "Sharpay, please. I'll give it to you later."

"Like hell you will!" Sharpay let out a loud laugh. "You'll just avoid the room forever. No, I will not have this, Gabriella. This is my life goal now, I have to win this game so man up and give me your goddamn target!"

"Sharpay!" I pleaded.

"Gabi," Troy said, confused. "Just give her your target."

I shot him a hopeless look and then closed my eyes. Reaching into my sweatshirt pocket, I pulled out the piece of paper and handed it to Sharpay. She snatched it out of my palm and her eyes quickly scanned the name and then widened.

"Oh," she said softly. "Well, this is convenient."

She stuck out her arm nonchalantly without removing her eyes from the paper and shot Troy in the arm. He stared down at the dart, his mouth open. His eyes fell on me and I winced.

"You had me as your target?" He exclaimed. "You had me this whole time?"

I gripped my hair and groaned. "Yes, okay? I had you as my target this whole time. Ooh, the drama!"

He looked at me, then at the dart on his arm, then back at me. "Why didn't you shoot me?"

I bit my lip. "Because I knew you wouldn't want to be out?"

Troy didn't say anything for a moment, inspecting me closely. His eyes darkened and I realized that he knew exactly why I hadn't shot him.

"Oh," he chuckled. "_Oh_. I can't believe this..."

"Troy," I began helplessly.

"No, Gabriella," he yanked the dart off his arm and threw his piece of paper with his own target on it to Sharpay. "I just...after everything that's happened, I'd like you to just trust me for more than five minutes. To just not think I'd get mad at you over something like a game of assassin."

"You were upset about the fridge!" I yelled, standing up. "Don't even deny it, Troy!"

He threw his hands up and laughed. "Gabriella, I was hardly mad! Was I disappointed? Yes. Do I think it's fair that you got one? No. But I was not mad at you and I wouldn't have been mad at you for this either." He stared at me, his eyes penetrating through my calm exterior. "When are you going to stop feeling so insecure and accept that you and I are friends and things like that don't just unravel sporadically?"

"There was no hidden meaning behind why I didn't shoot you," I said desperately. "I just didn't want you to be out!"

"No, Gabriella, there was something behind it," he began to make his way out of the room. "With you, there always is."

In two quick strides he was out of the room and Sharpay and I stood in silence.

She turned me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Shit," she said softly. "Did you and your boyfriend just break up?"

I threw her hand off. "Shut up, Sharpay."

---

After Sharpay left in search for next target, I sat in the same spot I had before. Why had I let Taylor get to me? Why did I believe that things were so complicated when they weren't?

These past few weeks, I had really gotten to know Troy. He wouldn't have gotten mad if I had shot him. He would have laughed.

I glanced around the room, at the pages of Shakespeare notes he had left behind and my dart gun. My eyes fell on the refrigerator.

I knew what I had to do.

It took me a good twenty minutes to push the fridge down the hall and around the corner to Troy and Zeke's room and I ignored the combination of odd stares, rude comments and cat-calls, asking me to bend over further as I made the journey. When I finally arrived at his dorm room, I pounded on the door with my fist and then sat down on the fridge, sweaty and our of breath.

Troy opened the door a moment later and looked around curiously before his eyes fell downwards to rest on the top of my head. He furrowed his brows.

"Gabriella?" he asked, bending down to eye level with me. I smiled, shyly.

"I uh, brought you a gift," I stood up and gestured to the fridge. "It's yours if you can manage to get it in your room, because my arms are like noodles now."

Troy stepped forward and looked down at the fridge. "Gabi, I can't accept this," he said, looking me in the eye. "This fridge is for you and Sharpay."

I waved my hand. "Sharpay really doesn't want it, Troy. It only makes her upset," I bit my lip. "Besides you and Zeke really, really wanted it. It doesn't seem fair. So just take it."

He shook his head. "No, I really can't take this."

I stepped behind it and pushed it forward slightly, despite the strain in my arms. "Take it, Troy."

He pressed his palms against it, forcing it back my way. "No, Gabriella."

"Troy!" I blew a strand of hair out of my eyes and he paused, arms folded. "Just take it. Please? Think of it as...think of it as my apology."

He cocked an eyebrow and leant against his doorframe. His arms were still folded against his grey 'Mates of State' t-shirt and his shaggy hair was falling into his eyes. God, he was beautiful. Pursing his lips he looked at me. "Apology for what?"

I sighed and sat down on the fridge. "For you know what." I rang my hands together and avoided his eye. "You were right. Not shooting you in assassin...it was...it was more than that. You were right and it was wrong of me to assume what I did." I stood then and began walking away. "So, please, take this refrigerator as a token of my sincerity and we can just move on."

I was halfway down the hall when he called my name. I turned around slowly, making sure I hadn't imagined it and sure enough, Troy was jogging towards me, a smile playing on his lips.

"Gabi," he said once he caught up with me. "You know that fridge? Well, I checked and you and the drama queen haven't filled it with anything but a bruised apple. Therefore," he looped his arm through mine and dragged me back towards his dorm. "I propose that you and I head down to the convenience store up the street and blow a whole twenty-dollar bill on junk food to fill it up."

I grinned and looked at the boy in front of me and his heartbreaking smile and aching sincerity. "You sure?"

In response, he slid his hand down my wrist and grasped my hand, giving it a squeeze. A hundred butterflies swept over me, but as quick as the moment had happened, it finished.

"I couldn't think of a better shopping companion," he smiled again, his eyes twinkling. Gesturing towards the fridge, he tapped the top of it. "Hop on. You can catch a ride while I push it inside. Give you a bit of a break."

Despite the absurdity of it, I swung my legs over the fridge and sat on top, laughing when it moved underneath me as Troy pushed it in the dorm room. "You're crazy," I said, still laughing.

"Yeah, well, you love it," he stuck out his tongue and offered me a hand. I accepted and rose, before stepping back outside of the room. Swinging the door closed, we began to walk down the hall and out into the open air of New York. I felt lighter, more content and pleased that for once I wasn't holding a loaded gun, feeling on edge. Instead, glancing at Troy and the bright lights of the city, I felt something else.

I felt like I was at home.

"_On one hand, expectations can inspire you, but then again, they can really let you down." _

_Sally Reardon_

_---_

So it's finished and longer than I anticipated, but that's okay. No thank yous this time around except for you wonderful readers. The response on the last chapter was phenomenal! Thank you so much!

In other news, today was my birthday (I'M AN ADULT NOW, WHAT?) and I got a new job! Wonderful! Now to quit my crappy one. :)

Next chapter is the party and something I've been looking forward to writing all week. I hope to get it up sometime this weekend, but you never know with me.


	9. Room Full of Junior High Insecurities

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Nine: Room Full of Junior High Insecurities_

---

"I can't believe you gave away our effing fridge."

Sharpay yanked a silver sequined dress off a hanger in her closet and then tossed it into the large reject pile on her bed. I raised my eyebrows at her, amused by her reaction.

"Sharpay," I began rationally, slipping my jeans over my hips. "You didn't even want it. You said it made you angry to look at it."

Sharpay turned to face me and placed her hands on her hips. "Yeah, well, I would have gotten used to it." She pursed her lips and glared. "But no, Saint Montez had to go and give it away to poor old Troy Bolton because they got in a petty fight. My god, I can't imagine what would happen if one of you were to seriously hurt the other."

I let out a sigh of frustration. Sharpay's comments about the nature of Troy and I's relationship were growing tiresome and I had long ago given up on correcting her. Either way, the appreciation I would feel if she were to cease and desist such matters would be immense.

"Seriously, though," Sharpay pulled out a black sparkly number and threw it into the reject pile before diving back into her seemingly endless closet. "What is the story with you and this Bolton character? I mean, I know you say that there's nothing between you, but I've always been a firm believer that friends of the opposite sex cannot spend that much time together and not feel something for one another."

Pulling a curling iron through my hair, I ignored Sharpay, but contemplated her words. Troy and I were friends now, honest to God friends. I seemed to have forgotten or just put it in the back of my mind that I came to New York for Troy because I was in love with him, and somewhere in the mist of our growing friendship, this no longer seemed important. It was, though. It wasn't that I no longer loved him, because I truly did. But the part of him that I was in love with seemed so small compared to the different parts of his personality that I was learning now.

Troy was still devastatingly beautiful, but his sense of humor was just as charming. The way he was motivated to do well in his courses took place of the way he dressed and styled his hair. He wasn't just good looking anymore. He was the real person I'd always known he was.

Still, we were friends and nothing more, nothing less. We studied together and went out to eat, but we did not hold hands (on a regular basis) nor did we kiss or behave as a couple. So it was beginning to be bothersome that Sharpay was continuously implying otherwise.

"Are you just going to ignore the question, Gabriella?" Sharpay asked from inside of her closet. I sighed, annoyed.

"Sharpay," I began diplomatically. "You know there's absolutely nothing going on between Troy and I other than platonic friendship."

"Ah, ah!" Sharpay stuck her hand out of the closet and wiggled her index finger. "You say that, but you and I both know you want something more."

I spun around in my chair, staring at her submerged limbs. I felt my face and neck get hot. "That's not true, Sharpay."

"Uh huh," she retorted from inside the closet. "You don't see how you look at him."

My face burned hotter. "I don't look at him in any special way!"

"Ha!" Sharpay exclaimed and stepped out of her closet, now dressed. "That's such bull and you know it! But, on to more important issues, because I see we're going nowhere with this: how do I look?"

Sharpay was dressed in a bright pink tiered spaghetti strap dress with a large bow around the waist. Underneath was a sunshine yellow t-shirt and around her neck were several strands of pearls. On her feet were sparkly gold heels. On anyone else, the outfit would look ridiculous, but with Sharpay's blonde curls and bright make up, it looked fabulous.

"You look great," I said earnestly as I set the curling iron down on the dresser, standing up myself. "What time is it? Troy said he'd be here just after seven."

Sharpay raised an eyebrow. "Troy isn't your boyfriend but he's escorting you to the party? Oh, what bull, I," she paused, her eyes fixated on me. "Holy shit, Gabriella, you look fantastic."

Flushing, I looked down at my outfit. "You sure it's not too much for a dorm party?"

While I hadn't gone to such extremes as Sharpay, I had decided to dress up just a little for the occasion, as to me it held sentimental value. My first real college party; an event like this needed to be marked with pretty clothes. I wore a red strapless dress with a little bow beneath the bust with a long black v-necked cardigan over top. On my feet were simple black flats. I didn't think it was anything special, but I had bought the dress shortly before moving to New York 'just in case'.

"Seriously!" Sharpay exclaimed, stepping forward to examine me closer. "You're a knock out! That dress is killer! My god!" She looked me up and down. "Who knew you had curves?"

I folded my arms over my chest self-consciously. "Gee, thanks Sharpay."

She shook her head and circled me. "No, I'm serious. You're always huddled up in jeans and t-shirts or sweats. You look amazing. Bolton is going to fall over his feet when he sees you."

I rolled my eyes. "He will not. Besides, he doesn't like me that way."

A knock at the door broke our conversation and we looked at each other. After staring at each other for several milliseconds, we both bolted to the door, desperate to answer it first.

Unfortunately for me, Sharpay got there first and I ended up being slammed with the door as she flung it open. I held my forehead in pain.

Sharpay burst out laughing at the sight and then grinned upon seeing the person standing behind the door. "Bolton!" she proclaimed, nearing hysterics. It really wasn't that funny. "Come on in!"

Troy walked in the room, smirking with raised eyebrows. "What's so funny, Sharpay?"

She held her sides, her eyes watering. "I just killed Gabriella with the door. It was priceless."

Troy's eyes fell on me, still clutching my forehead. "Is this true, Gabriella?"

My hands held my throbbing head and I cursed the day I was assigned to this dorm with Sharpay Evans. Lowering them slowly, I peeked through my eyelids to glance at Troy. "Uh, yeah. Is there a bump on my forehead?"

I lowered my hands completely so he could inspect it, and his mouth fell open ever so slightly. I saw his eyes run up and down my figure and his gaze nearly burned me. He was dressed in a pair of distressed denim jeans and a short-sleeved plaid button down which showed off his tan arms. His hair flopped over his own forehead into his blue eyes that were staring at me with such an intensity that I had not seen before. I swallowed, remembering what had attracted him to me in the first place. God, he was gorgeous. Did I really almost forget that?

Well, not really, but how was I able to focus on something else during all this time we spent together?

He drew his bottom lip into his mouth and bit down on it before smiling wildly at me. He took a step forwards and shoved his hands into his pockets, almost awkwardly. "You look...wow. You look amazing, Gabi," he said bashfully, glancing down at his face.

All the blood in my body rushed to my cheeks and I pulled at one of my curls. "You sure it isn't too much?"

"No!' Troy shook his head quickly. "I mean, um, really. You look really, really...you look...you know.."

My heart leapt into my mouth as I willed my brain to form words to string together a coherent sentence.

"T-thank you," I stuttered.

Sharpay, however, wasn't so quick to let it go. "I'm sorry, but I _don't _know. She looks really, really what, Troy?"

"Okay!" I said suddenly, not wanting to perpetuate the situation any further. "Come on! Let's go!" I opened the door and motioned for us to leave, which Troy did promptly, obviously eager to get out of the awkward situation Sharpay had thrown us in. As she slipped through the door, Sharpay shot me a sly look before winking and whispering,

"_I told you so_."

---

"Oh my god," a girl with long brown hair exclaimed and came to stand in front of the girl who was seated next to me on the couch. "I was just smoking a blunt. I think I smell like it." She grabbed the girl's face and pulled her to her. "Quick. Kiss me and tell me if you can taste it on my breath."

Their lips connected in a sloppy kiss that lasted a few seconds before pulling away. The girl next to me shook her head and grinned. "Nope! You taste like a tic-tac!"

The brunette smiled and mocked wiping sweat from her forehead. "Oh! Thank god! Now I have to find Jordan, must find Jordan." And with that she walked away.

I sat on the couch next to Taylor, who was giggling almost obnoxiously. Taking a sip of the bottle Sharpay had given me, the tart taste hit my tongue and while I didn't particularly enjoy it, it wasn't bad.

I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the what had just occurred in front of me. Was this what all parties were like? Hanging out, drinking and dancing? People kissing random people, just to check their breath? While the whole experience was interesting, it was certainly not like anything I had used to and not necessarily something I would make a habit out of.

Upon arriving at the party, which was essentially the common room cleared out with a large table filled with a keg and various bottles and cartons of juice, along with a stack of red cups, Sharpay had ushered me over and shoved a red bottle in my hand, proclaiming that I had to at least carry it around with me if I didn't want to get really drunk, which I didn't. The bottle was strawberry daiquiri something or the other and had only point five alcohol in it, but as the lightweight I apparently was, it was enough to get me mildly buzzed if I drank too much.

I had drank alcohol on a few family occasions and wasn't particularly fond of it, but this was a social situation and I was a foreigner in Rome and as they say, when it Rome, do as the Romans do.

Troy got lost promptly after we arrived at the party, being ushered into some obscene game of beer pong by Zeke, who had already been playing enthusiastically for over half an hour and was slightly inebriated. So instead I found solace in Taylor who was dressed in the tightest pair of black skinny jeans and a leopard print halter. We sat on the couch watching the crazy people dance, one of which included Sharpay and sipped on our drinks.

"I gotta say," Taylor said loudly over the music. "This party? Kind of lame. Nothing like the awesome parties I go to in Brooklyn."

"Hey!" I yelled. "Don't knock it! This is my first college party and frankly, I love it!" I grinned brightly and moved slightly to the music. The alcohol, while it didn't affect my train of thought was certainly making me less inhibited.

Taylor threw her head back and laughed. "If you enjoy this, just wait till I take you to a party in Brooklyn. It's awesome, Miss. Montez."

I took a long sip of my drink and stared back out at the dance-floor. "Tell me, Taylor, why are we sitting here and not dancing?"

Taylor grinned back at me and stood up, downing the rest of her drink and extending a hand to me. "I was thinking the same thing. Come on, Gabriella, let's dance."

We stepped into the throng of people who were moving their hips and arms to the music and fell into an easy rhythm. The music blared through the speakers and I let my hands sway above my head to the music, feeling comfortable and enjoying the music.

"_You can come take me away, there's no pressure, play all day. Grab me tight and don't let go. Mmm, papi, love you_."

I had always enjoyed dancing as a young girl and had actively participated in ballet and jazz lessons, but as I grew older and became more emerged in my school work, time for such extra curricular was unheard of. Still, dancing as I was now was like a fresh of breath air that I didn't know I was gasping for.

"Hey!" I heard a male voice exclaim and I spun around to find Ryan standing there, grinning like a loon, his arm looped around the shoulders of a petite female.

"Hey, Ryan!" I said cheerfully. "What's up?"

He laughed and stepped closer to me, never missing a bit, his arm never falling from the girl's shoulders. "You seem like you're having fun!"

I nodded vigorously. "I am!" I glanced at the female beside him and realized she looked oddly familiar. "Have we met before?"

She grinned brightly and adjusted the glasses on her nose. "Sort of, but not very formally. I'm Kelsi, Ryan's girlfriend. You're Troy's friend, right?"

I slowed my movements again, realizing this was indeed the girl I had mistaken for Troy's girlfriend. I flushed slightly at the embarrassing memory as the song changed. Looking at she and Ryan now and the tight grips they had on each other, it was laughable to think that she and Troy were involved.

"Oh, yeah!" I said, still embarrassed. "Sorry for running off so quickly. I was having a bad day."

Kelsi waved her hand in the air, as if telling me to forget about it. "It's no big deal. I wouldn't talk to anyone for three weeks when I started here last year. In comparison, you did much better."

We laughed and the couple slowly made their way across the room to something else after saying a quick goodbye. I continued dancing with Taylor, who seemed a natural at it. Glancing around the floor, my eyes suddenly fell on Troy whose gaze was fixed on me. Despite my self-consciousness at him watching me dance, I did not cease my moments. I raised my eyebrows at him, confused, but his gaze did not falter. Instead, he grinned and cocked his head backwards, motioning for me to come over.

"I'll be back," I hissed in Taylor's ear, and began making my way over to him. Once I arrived, I saw he was stationed against a wall, with a red cup in his hands standing next to a girl and a boy who seemed rather drunk.

"I love you," the girl cooed, wrapping herself around the boy.

"I love you, too," he replied, his hands encircling themselves around her waist. The pressed closer together as the girl continued to babble nonsensically.

"Really, truly. I love you."

"Yeah," the boy replied, before turning to face Troy and I. He looked at as seriously, but his eyes were bloodshot and his words slurred. "We love each other. We're going to get married."

Troy nodded and bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "Congratulations," he said, before winking at me. I leaned against the wall beside him and he bent his head down to speak to me.

"They just met five minutes ago," he said, chuckling. His breath, surprisingly, did not smell like alcohol, but maybe that was because I had been drinking, too. Wasn't that how it worked?

"Ah," I said, pressing a hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter. I looked up at Troy who was grinning at me.

"You having a good time?" he asked, stepping to stand in front of me. He pressed his hand to the wall behind me so that it was resting beside my head, trapping me in.

I nodded. "A great time, actually. More fun than I thought I would."

"Really now?" he cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "And here I thought you only enjoyed studying and drinking hot chocolate."

"Didn't you know, Troy," I said coyly. "There's so much you don't know about me." I stuck my tongue out to show I was joking.

His smirk grew in size and he removed his hand from the wall. "Is that so?" he took a long drink out of his cup. "Well, at any rate, I'm glad I'm getting to know you at all."

I stared up at him. "Really?"

He nodded slowly, his face growing serious. "Really. You're...you're not what I expected Gabi."

"Is that a bad thing?" I quirked an eyebrow, feeling awkward and suddenly out of place.

"No, no!" he shook his head and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Far from it. It's a great thing."

I smiled, feeling my body envelope in warmth at his words. "The same goes for you, Troy."

We didn't say anything for a moment as I reveled in his words. It was still hard to get my head around the notion that he and I were friends, even as we stood against the same wall together, at a dorm party in New York. If someone had told me this is where I would be now a year ago, I would have laughed in their face.

"Oh my god!" a voice exclaimed. "Guess who I saw coming out of the Royal?"

A girl with pink hair staggered over to a boy, her face stretched into a large grin. "Who?" he asked, eagerly.

"Charlene!" she exclaimed and they burst into laughter.

"Oh, she is so totally a hooker!" the boy exclaimed and Troy. He looked at me and I looked at him and within seconds, we burst into our own laughter.

"Oh, wow," he said, letting me go and running a hand through his hair. "That was priceless."

"I know!" I laughed in agreement. "The way she said that."

Suddenly things had shifted again. We had gone from being serious to being pals, laughing over something ridiculous. Oddly enough, it felt normal.

A soft strum of an acoustic guitar filled the room as a soft male voice filtered through the speakers. I glanced at Troy awkwardly, recalling one too many slow dances in elementary school that had resulted in tears or embarrassment. Instinctively, I turned to make my way off of the dance-floor, but a warm handed grasped my wrist, pulling me backwards.

It was Troy.

I peered at him curiously, my heart pounding in my chest. "What is it, Troy?" I asked softly, afraid if I spoke too loud the moment would break.

He was staring at me oddly, his eyes sparkling in a funny way I hadn't seen before. His hand slid down my wrist and he enlaced his fingers with mine. I swallowed, a heavy lump rising in my throat as he dropped my hand and wrapped his own around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

"Dance with me," he whispered huskily in my ear and my heart jumped into my throat.

"_New York down to Mexico, Seattle to Oklahoma. Your ghost will always haunt my soul, Dallas up to Baltimore_."

I looked down at my feet as I cautiously placed my hands around his neck. "I'm not very good at it," I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush at our closeness.

Lowering his hands to my hips, he pulled me closer. "Liar. That's impossible, Gabriella."

"Seriously," I bit my lip and shuffled my feet as we swayed to the music. "You should have seen me at elementary school dances. I can't handle basic coordination such as swaying."

He chuckled slightly. "Well, I'm seeing you right now and you're doing just fine."

"Give me a few minutes and your feet will be bruised from my stepping on them," I joked as we grew more comfortable. The skin on his neck was smooth and the strands of his hair were tickling my fingertips. I longed to touch them, but refrained.

"You know," he began, licking his lips nervously. He bent down, pulling me closer and dipped his head close to my ear. His warm breath danced on my skin and I shivered slightly, goosebumps irrupting on my arms. "Earlier, I don't think I explained myself well enough."

I let out a shaky breath. "What do you mean?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, only bent his head even closer to mine. "You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, Gabi. Gorgeous."

My heart fell to my feet. Gorgeous. He said I was gorgeous. The only other man in my life to utter such sentiments to me was my father and even then he had never used such an adjective like gorgeous before. My face had never felt so hot and I bit my lip hard, trying to stop myself from saying something stupid.

"Thank you," I whispered so softly I was sure he hadn't heard me, until he pulled back and whispered a reply.

"I'm only telling the truth."

I looked up at his words and when his eyes met mine, I felt my breath catch in my throat. My heart continued to increase in pace as we gazed at each other, neither of us daring to blink. He pulled my flush against him so that there was no space between us, and I felt the warmth of his chest against mine and the dizzying sensation that followed.

"_I will follow you home. I will follow wherever you go_."

The music intensified and our gaze did not break. Something within me snapped and Troy bit his lip, his eyes searching my face. His hands tightened around my waist, fingertips digging into my flesh and I felt dizzy as warmth and sparks shot through me.

What was happening?

_'It was like we could speak without words. I wonder how and when we learned it, this secret language."_

_- Felicity Porter_

--

I have to thank my best friend so much for all her support. I was a complete ball of stress when I was attempting to write from a combination of an uncomfortable situation with our mutual friend, haters on the internet and school work and just one phone call from her cleared up all that drama. Thank you so much, you have no idea how much you helped me with your simple, logical words.

Furthermore, I said to her during our religion class that I needed a song for Troy and Gabi to dance to and was completely lost for one. Ten minutes later she pulled out her iPod and gasped in excitement when she found the lovely song used in this chapter, 'I Will Follow' by Shorelines End. It could not be more perfect for the situation and my Troy and Gabi and I am so extremely ecstatic and pleased that she was able to lend her musical taste to me. :D

There was originally a grind scene in this chapter and while I know it's deletion may disappoint some of you, after careful consideration from my mom ("It's too out of character for Gabi, Diana. She'd have to be really drunk like the girls at the party you went to at New Years.") and the best friend ("It's...it's not something I see them doing."), I felt it was best to get rid of the scene altogether. I'm not developing this story slowly for nothing.

:) Fun times are ahead, it may just take a while.

P.S. All 'party conversations' are from the real-life New Years party I attended this past year. Except for the one about the hooker. That happened the other day in the car.


	10. Anything Less Than Amazing

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Ten: Anything Less Than Amazing_

---

"I'm so broke, it's tragic," I whined, pulling pennies out of my wallet, trying to gather up enough change to pay for a hot chocolate at Jenny's. I dumped the contents out on the counter top by Jenny's register, counting it out. I drew back, dismayed when I realized I had no where near the right amount.

"Darn," I said, pouting slightly. "I guess I'll have to pass on the hot chocolate today."

Troy glanced at me and frowned. "I can pay, Gabi," he offered. "It's no big deal."

I brought my hand up in protest. "No, Troy, don't worry about it," I scooped my change up and threw it back into my purse, too lazy to put it back in my wallet. "It's just hot chocolate."

He smiled boyishly. "Exactly. It's just hot chocolate. It's like, two dollars. Let me treat you." He leaned his elbows on the counter and grinned up at Jenny. "I think she should let me treat her, don't you?"

Laughing to herself, Jenny raised her eyebrows at me. "Yes, Gabriella, I think you should let the nice boy treat you, especially considering how eager he is to do so."

I shook my head again, determined not to let him win this round. "You're forever treating me, Troy. You're just as broke as I am!"

Despite my protests, Troy ordered two hot chocolates from Jenny and paid before I could tackle him to stop him. I sighed and dropped my head into my hands, defeated.

"You've got to stop treating me, Troy," I said, pouting slightly. "It's not fair. I never get to treat you."

He cocked his head to the side. "It doesn't matter, Gabi. Besides, you do things like give me refrigerators. I think things have evened out." Jenny returned with our hot chocolates and slid them across the counter. Troy picked one up and extended it out to me. "Now drink your chocolate beverage and quit whining."

Rolling my eyes, I reached out to take it from him and our hands brushed. Heat coursed through my veins as I looked up at him. The spark that had flickered between us at the party three days earlier was ever present and it was making my stomach sick. Anytime he looked at me in a particular way, anytime his skin grazed mine I felt that same shock and it was making me go crazy with the implications of it all.

That being said, I had absolutely no expectations as to what could possibly happen between Troy and I, just because the notion of it was so foreign. Troy and I in a romantic relationship? So highly unlikely. Yes, it had been what I had dreamt about so many times during high school, but now, being friends with him and nothing progressing like lightning, it didn't seem...possible. If I had learned anything from television and self-help books, if a guy is into you, he _will _ask you out at almost any given time.

And here we were and this didn't seem like it was going to happen anytime soon, so therefore, using my brilliant skills of deduction, these sparks were probably purely one sided and felt only by myself.

We sat down on opposite ends of the eggplant sofa in the cafe. My legs curled up on the seat and I blew the steam off my drink, trying to cool it. "Thanks, Troy," I said before taking a hot sip. "I do appreciate it."

He grinned and took a sip of his own drink. "I know you do. If I wanted to buy a drink for someone and get no thanks in return, I would have asked that you bring Sharpay with you."

I laughed. Troy and Sharpay weren't friends by any stretch of any means, but they were generally civil to one another when it just so happened that both were occupying the space in my dorm room. He still thought she was a tad snobby and she still was calling him my boyfriend.

"Speaking of Sharpay, I was thinking of asking her to hang out with Taylor and I tonight," I mentioned casually, running my finger along the rim of my mug. "I mean, yeah, they didn't get along in the past, but there's no reason they can't try and make anew, you know? Sharpay's really come a long way these past few weeks. I think it'd be good for her."

Troy's eyebrows shot up and his eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure I like the idea of you alone in the same room with them. I might never see you again."

I flushed and raised my own eyebrows. "Why would have raise a problem?"

"I need to pass this Shakespeare course, Gabi," he smirked. "Without you, I'm screwed."

"Oh, ha ha," I took another sip. "But really, I think I'm going to ask her. I'm going over to hang in Taylor's dorm around seven, but we'll see." I glanced at him and noticed that he seemed more tired than he had in prior weeks. "What's up with you? I haven't seen you much since the party."

He glanced at me curiously then, and my eyes darted down, my face warming at the memory of the dance we shared. We had been so close, only to separate as soon as the song had finished. Almost remarkable, it wasn't awkward between us, thankfully, and we were able to converse easily throughout the remainder of the party. But just the memory of that dance would forever been carved into my mind. When he looked at me then, I couldn't help but feel that he was thinking about it, too.

"Basketball tryouts are on Saturday," he admitted, swallowing. "So I've been busy, trying to train and be prepared for them. It's not like high school -- my dad's not the coach anymore."

I smiled brightly at him. "You'll be fine, Troy," I assured him. He shifted in his seat, avoiding my eyes.

"Yeah, I sure hope so." He finally looked at me and his eyes fell on what seemed like it was my chest. My face burned and I crossed my arms over my breasts, hoping he'd avert his eyes.

Realizing the implications of his gaze, he laughed slightly. "No, your necklace," he said, pointing to the small angel pendant on the gold chain around my neck. "It's interesting. I haven't seen you wear it before."

"Oh," I said, dropping my arms. I picked up the pendant in my fingers and looked down to examine it. "It used to belong to my grandmother; an heirloom. I only wear it occasionally, when I feel like the day is important."

"Really?" he looked at me thoughtfully. "And why would today be important?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I just kind of feel like it is."

---

Entering the bedroom, I did a double take at the mess that was Sharpay's side of the room. The blonde girl was sitting in the middle of the floor, riffling through what seemed like wires and cords galore. I blinked, confused.

"What are you doing?" I threw my bag down on my desk chair and took a seat on my bed, observing her casually.

Sharpay rubbed her eyebrow furiously, a sign that she was stressed out. "Kay, so, basically when I got my Blackberry Pearl phone over a year ago, I tried installing the software and it never would load on my computer." She ran a hand through her messy hair and stood, walking to her desk where she found another box and dumped it on the floor. More cords and cables fell out.

Sitting back down, she began detangling them. "I figured it was just because of the suck that is Windows Vista. But when I went to install it this afternoon on my Macbook, it did the same thing. Now I'm too afraid to take it into my cellphone provider because they'll be like," she put on a serious expression and deepened her voice, "You've been having problems for over a year and you're only bringing it in _now_?"

I shook my head, holding back giggles. "Okay, but that doesn't explain why your side of the room looks like Radio Shack."

Scooping up the mess, she threw it into her desk drawer angrily. "Well, then I installed some other program to make the software work and it did. Only guess what? I can't find the cord to connect my Blackberry to my computer." She threw her hands up in aggravation. "This is so ridiculous! All I wanted to do was make that new Lily Allen song my ringtone! Speaking of Lily Allen, did you know she's going on tour? Cause I didn't until this morning and tickets are already all sold out." She slumped down on her bed, pouting childishly. "This is just possibly the worst day of my life."

"Hey now," I said sympathetically. "It's not that bad. You can always buy a new cord to replace the one you lost and I'm sure you can find tickets for Lily Allen somewhere else on the internet."

Sharpay looked at me and rolled her eyes. "Do you have any idea how expensive Blackberry accessories are? And the tickets are now going for nearly ten times the price. I'm still a poor college student!"

"We're all poor college students," I said, dragging my feet over to my closet. "I couldn't even buy myself a hot chocolate today." I began flicking through the outfits in my closet, attempting to find something that wasn't hideous for my movie night with Taylor.

"Yeah? At that Jenny's place, right?" Sharpay said, sounding more interested than I expected her to. I turned around slowly and nodded.

"Yeah," I looked at her suspiciously. "Why?"

Wringing her hands together, she rose from the bed and glanced around the room nervously. "Okay, don't make a big deal out of this, but I've been doing a lot of thinking in recent weeks."

"Okay..." I said, waiting for her to continue. She seemed anxious to get what she had to say out in the open, but at the same time, afraid to saying anything at all.

Sharpay let out a deep breath before going to stand by the window. Looking out at the brick walls that was our stunning view, she swallowed. "Well, I went by Jenny's the other day, just because you're always raving about it and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about," she paused and smiled. "The hot chocolate was decent, but nothing exciting. However, I struck up a conversation with Jenny and it turns out she's hosting an open mic-night in two days. While, I talked to Zeke and..."

My eyes doubled in size and my heart thudded in anticipation for her sentence, but I couldn't wait for her to finish. "Are you thinking about doing it?" I asked, excitedly.

She turned sharply, her eyes wide and panicked. "Yes," she said, anxiously. "Yes, we are. I don't...I don't know why, but I...we, really want to." She took another deep breath. "I want to sing for an audience again."

I walked over to where she was and despite myself and everything we had been through, threw my arms around her in a brief hug. I pulled back a second later and ignoring her surprised expression, continued.

"Oh, Sharpay!" I practically squealed. "This is wonderful!"

Sharpay smiled slightly, still seemingly shaken up. "I wouldn't go that far, but it's a start. I'm nervous, but I'm excited, too, you know? And Zeke and I have this song we've been working on and I really, really want to kind of...let it out there."

I smiled brightly, feeling genuinely excited for her. Sharpay was brilliantly talented and she needed that extra boost to move past the pain she had felt resulting from her rejection at Julliard. This could do great things for her.

Stepping back, I smiled brightly. "Um, Sharpay, what did you have planned for tonight?" I asked awkwardly.

She furrowed her brows and folded her arms almost defensively. "Nothing. Why?"

Running a hand through my hair, I tried to think of a way to make this seem less awkward of a proposition than it actually was. "Well, Taylor has a television in her dorm room, which I know, is terribly exciting. She um, invited me over to watch a movie tonight with her and I was, well, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me?"

She stared at me curiously. "Taylor? Taylor hates me."

"No!" I protested. "Taylor doesn't hate you! She just doesn't know you! And this could be the perfect opportunity for you to change that!"

Sharpay didn't say anything for several moments, instead sat down on her bed and delibarated the situation.

"If you don't want to come, I understand," I said, worried that I had maybe been too pushy. "I just thought you might want to come, but--"

"No!" Sharpay said frantically. "I'll, um, I'll come!" She stood quickly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "That is, if you're sure Taylor won't mind too much."

I grinned. "She'll be fine with it."

---

"Why did you have to invite Malibu Barbie?" Taylor hissed at me when Sharpay stepped past me into Taylor's dorm room. I shrugged helplessly.

"Taylor," I began, "She's not as bad as she seems. Give her a chance."

Taylor gapes at me. "No, I don't have to do that. She's been nothing but a bitch everytime I've had the displeasure of being in her company."

From inside the room, Sharpay turned sharply and glared. "I can hear you, you know."

"Glad to know it, princess!" Taylor snapped, stepping to the side to let me in the room.

Sharpay folded her arms over her chest and looked at me pointedly. "I told you that she wasn't going to like this. I'm just going back to the dorm." She began to hastily make her way across the room to the door.

I looked at Taylor pleadingly. "No, Sharpay, stay!" I nudged at Taylor and whispered in her ear. "You're not being any better than she is!"

Aggravated, Taylor sighed. "Sharpay, wait." The blonde girl stilled and Taylor continued. "Are you an Audrey Hepburn fan?"

Sharpay turned around slowly. "The biggest. Why?"

Taylor smiled softly and picked up three DVDs. "Well, I've got '_Breakfast at Tiffany's_', '_Roman Holiday_' and '_Funny Face_' all right here. The plan was a marathon. Want to stick around?"

Sharpay looked conflicted for a moment, before rolling her eyes and sitting down on the floor. "Only because it's Audrey."

I grinned at Taylor excitedly. "Thank you!" I whispered.

Taylor rolled her own eyes and sat down next to Sharpay. "But we're watching 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' first because I have a thing for Paul Varjack."

Sharpay smiled awkwardly. "Don't you mean _Fred_?"

Taylor stared at her before breaking into her own smile. "You know that's just a symbolic, right? She calls him by her brother's name to avoid the reality that she's falling in love with him."

"Duh," Sharpay stuck out her tongue. "It's practically self-explanatory, just like she doesn't give her cat a name. To be honest, I fought tooth and nail against my brother back in our sophomore year when we got a cat to name it just that; Cat."

Taylor grinned. "I have the Holly Golightly sleep-mask. I bought it from the _Fred Flare _store as soon as it opened."

Sharpay's jaw dropped open. "I've always wanted that! The closest I got to it was the 'For Audrey' Tiffany blue nail-polish by China Glaze!"

"Damn!" Taylor exclaimed. "Do you have that? It was limited edition and by the time I found out it existed, it was all sold out!"

The two continued to banter back and forth over the love of the movie and I sat down beside them, the warmth engulfing me, smiling to myself. Who'd have thought that it just took a flighty heroine to connect two people.

"Now, now, ladies," I said in my best Holly Golightly voice, "We must not stall the viewing of this class any longer. Or else I am going to get a case of the mean reds."

The two turned to me slowly and I laughed. "Hey, I've seen the movie, too you know, though I may not own the nail polish."

---

Later that night, ass we walked through the halls of the dormitory, Sharpay giggling incessantly, I felt ridiculously happy. It was our first official girl's night and it was more fun than I had imagined such a thing to be.

"I can't wait to see you perform on Saturday, Sharpay," I said earnestly. "Since Taylor's coming now, too, would you mind if I tried to rope Troy into attending, too?"

"Like I really have a choice in the matter," she paused. "Hey, Gabriella?" Sharpay said suddenly, grabbing me by the wrist. I turned around to face her slowly, slightly confused.

"Yeah?" I asked, and noticed the way she was biting her lip.

She sighed heavily, before blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Okay, well, I don't get sentimental often and more than that, this is probably the first and last time I'll ever say something to this extent so enjoy it while you can."

I smiled slightly, anticipating what she had to say next. "Okay..."

"Thank you," she said, letting out a deep breath. "Thank you for inviting me tonight and thank you for...for caring enough to want to come support me on Saturday. More than that, thank you for caring enough in general." She looked me in the eye. "It means a lot to me. More than you could know."

I didn't say anything for a moment, letting her words sink in. All the expectations and assumptions I had made about people I had met here were so quickly proven wrong. Yes, Sharpay could be a bitch, but that wasn't all there was to her. She was lonely, that was one thing I had gotten right, but she was also sweet and grateful at the chance to make new friends, just as I was.

Smiling, I nodded at her. "It's no problem, Sharpay," I laughed. "I'm just glad we can be friends now."

She nodded excitedly in agreement. "No kidding," she paused and gave me a look. "I still hate your taste in music, though. It kind of makes me want to rip my ears off."

My mouth fell open in mock offense. "I'm sorry, but what exactly is wrong with Laura Marling? Kendall Payne? Explain to me."

Sharpay guffawed and brought a hand to her mouth, trying to hold back further giggles. "Only that they excruciatingly suck. Like, hardcore."

"Oh, because Lily Allen is such a musical genius," I cracked as we walked down the hall to our dorm room.

"Hey!" Sharpay said sharply, "Don't you dare go dissing up Lily Allen! '_Knock 'Em Out_?' Lyrical brilliance! I --" She cut herself off, her eyes fixed on something down the hall. I followed her gaze and my breath caught sharply in my throat.

"Oh," I said, softly. Seated outside of our dorm room was Troy, his back against the wall and legs stretched out in front of him. He was holding a basketball, twirling it in his fingers absentmindedly. He seemed to be focusing on something that was a million miles away. Sharpay and I exchanged a glance before advancing further.

"Hey, Troy," Sharpay said quietly. His head snapped up and his eyes darted around when he saw the two of us standing there.

"Um, hey," he said, resting the ball in his lap and scratching his neck. His face was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes. He seemed restless and uncomfortable. "You guys weren't answering the door, and you mentioned going to Taylor's earlier, so I um, just decided to wait for you."

Pulling her key out of her purse, Sharpay unlocked the door and stepped inside. "I'll leave the door open for you, okay, Gabriella?"

I looked at her and her eyes told me that she had expected something along these lines. Confused, but completely aware at the same time, I nodded in agreement. The door clicked shut quietly behind her and Troy and I were left alone in the hallway.

"Hey," I said awkwardly. Shuffling my feet, I looked down at his figure. "You alright?"

Troy ran a hand through his messy hair and let out a sigh. "No," he still didn't look at me. "Not really."

Dropping my bag by the door, I slid down the wall until I was seated next to him. Turning to the side, I inspected his profile. He seemed tired, exhausted and anxious. I yearned to touch him, to reach out and give him some comfort, but I didn't. Despite how close we were becoming, to make the first move was still something I wasn't prepared for.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my fingers still burning to touch him. "Are you feeling alright? You seem pale."

He bounced his leg up and down anxiously and turned to face me. "Tryouts are in two days, Gabi," he said, biting his lip. I searched his face, trying to see what was getting him so riled up.

"Yeah, I know," I said, smiling gently. "You mentioned it to me a while ago and earlier, remember?" I took in his stiff frame and the panic in his eyes and it suddenly hit me. It was so obvious.

"Wait, Troy," I said slowly, still searching his face. "You're nervous. You're really, really nervous, aren't you?"

He leant back against the wall and brought a hand to his forehead, massaging his temples. "Yeah," he said, so quietly that it was barely audible.

"Troy," I began, searching for the words make all his worries go away. I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to come with something, anything to make him feel better. "Don't be."

He sighed again. "How can I not be?"

"Because," I stuttered, stumbling over my thoughts. "Because you're...you're you. You're Troy Bolton, basketball star extraordinaire."

"Yeah," he scoffed. "At East High in Albuquerque, New Mexico." He looked me in the eye then, his orbs piercing. "But this, this Gabriella...this is bigger."

Leaning my head to the side, I tried desperately to see why this was such a huge deal. It was just a basketball team, wasn't it? It was just an extracurricular activity and more than that, he hadn't even come to NYU to play. It was just another perk.

"Troy," unable to stop myself, I reached out and placed my hand on his shoulder. His muscles relaxed slightly under my touch and I felt my heart rate increase slightly. "It's not that big of a deal."

At my words, as quickly as he relaxed, he tensed again. "Not a big deal? Gabi, it's a huge deal."

"But why?" I prodded. "It's not all or nothing."

"Nevermind," he said suddenly, standing up. "I shouldn't have come bothered you. It's late and you're tired and you don't need me babbling about...about stuff."

"No, Troy!" I protested, jumping up quickly. Losing my balance, I stumbled, and prepared myself to hurdle towards the crowd. To my surprise, but it shouldn't have been, Troy captured my forearms in his strong hands and steadied me.

"Whoa, careful," he said, before scampering behind him to grab his basketball which was now rolling down the hall. I jogged towards him, not wanting to part ways on such a tense note.

When I caught up to him, I looked him in the eyes, trying to convey that I felt that he could do anything. "I didn't mean that it wasn't a big deal to you, Troy," I backtracked. "While, not entirely. All I meant was that you are..._you_ and well, I think, no, _I know_," I paused, my eyes never leaving his. "I _know_ that you'll be alright."

He blinked slowly and his face flushed. Feeling my own cheeks grow hot, I swallowed and averted my gaze, looking down.

"Thanks, Gabi," he said softly before smiling. "See, this is why I came to see you."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Because I babble and that takes your mind off of it?"

He laughed and shook his head. "No," he looked me in the eyes again and the intensity of his gaze made my breath catch in my throat. "I came to you because I knew that somehow, some way, you'd make me feel better."

With another smile and a wave, he turned on his heel and walked down the hallway back to his dorm. My hand fluttered to my chest and I tried to ease my breathing, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of me.

Arriving back at my dorm, I saw Sharpay seated on her bed, already in her pajamas with the latest issue of _Nylon _spread out in front of her, Lily Allen playing from her Macbook.

"Everything alright?" she asked, turning a page in her notebook. Not responding, I slowly made my way over to my bed and sat down.

At my lack of response, Sharpay looked up at me. "You okay?" she looked perplexed. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Sharpay?" I asked, flopping back against my bed. "Do you ever have a moment that's so surreal that you kind of feel like there's no possible way it actually happened?" I played with the angel on my necklace, feeling my heart thump in my chest.

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. "No, not really." She smirked. "But I'm assuming you just did."

"Turning over on my side, I listened to the lyrics floating through the laptop's speakers and nodded.

"_Who'd have known? Who'd have known when you flash up on my phone, I'd no longer feel alone. No longer feel alone._"

"Yeah," I closed my eyes, remembering Troy's soft smile and words from only moments earlier. "I think I just did."

"_The last thing I ever wanted to do is make you feel anything less than amazing."_

_- Felicity Porter_

---

Yeah, I hardcore procrastinated on this one, because, as you can so plainly see; it's all filler. But filler needs to be done to prepare for what I have coming up in the next few chapters to for Troy and Gabi to strengthen their emotional relationship.

Trust me, everything I do has a reason, even if it may be frustrating.

That being said, I've had a lot of inquires as to how long the story is going to be. At this moment, I have the story planned for 21 or 22 chapters, depending on how the revisions I am doing after I post this go. That being said, Troy and Gabi have a long way to go. :)


	11. I Will Not Weigh You Down

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Eleven: I Will Not Weigh You Down_

---

I had never watched Troy play basketball before in high school, this was a known fact, but it was impossible not to know about his talent. He was constantly in the papers; his talents and accomplishments declared and paraded around for all to see in black and white print. Just as I took to reading them religiously, they did not escape the attention of my mother, who after a while, grew curious as to why I was always flipping through the local paper in search of the sports section every Saturday evening.

"This Troy Bolton seems notorious," she proclaimed one night while we sat in the living room, my biology textbook open in my lap, the newspaper open in hers. My head had shot up so quickly that I felt dizzy and my eyes tripled in size.

"W-what?" I had stammered quickly, scared to discover that she had somehow tapped into my brain and pulled out every thought of him that I had experienced over the last three and a half years.

She pointed to the news paper, where his name was in bold font beneath a picture. "He's always in the newspapers for your school," she commented, examining the picture more closely. "Do you know him?"

I glanced back down at my work, the diagrams and descriptions a swirl of colours and labels. I shrugged, trying to make it seem like no big deal. "Not really," I admitted. "We run in different social circles."

My mother lowered her glasses on her nose and peered at me. "Is he a jerk then?"

It was a natural assumption. Boy is popular, good looking and talented at sports usually equates to an asshole kind of status. Despite the fact that I knew nothing of him at the time, I shook my head and looked my mother square in the eye.

"Not really, mama," I answered honestly. "He seems nice. I just don't know him."

And that was the truth. I didn't know him, nor did I think I would ever get such a chance to get to know him. At this time, it was already December of my senior year of high school and I had long ago accepted the fact that he and I seldom crossed paths, leaving little room for friendship to blossom.

So as I stood awkwardly outside of the large gymnasium in the recreation centre of the school, I paced back and forth, recalling these events. The doors seemed hideously tall and daunting; the thought of passing through them too terrifying to really ponder.

It was Saturday morning, the day of the tryouts for the basketball team and I was feeling more nervous than I had stepping up to the podium on graduation. This was Troy's big day, his big moment and I knew that it meant a lot to him. I didn't know exactly why, except that it probably had to do with male foolish pride or something of the likes. Other than that, I had no idea what had gotten him so riled up and worried over the whole thing, but it had and I could only worry that it would affect his performance.

Which brought me here, standing outside of the gym. He had no idea I was here, nor did he have any idea that I was even thinking about the situation. But I was. Since his arrival outside my dorm room two nights earlier, I couldn't stop thinking about it. All I knew was that I was desperate to support him, to lend him a hand in the best way possible and that was by coming to the tryouts to cheer him on.

If I could only open the door.

Was I even allowed to watch the tryouts? I had no idea how these things even worked. I bit my lip anxiously until I saw a tall boy walk through the doors, dressed casually and carrying his books.

I drew in a deep breath and called out to him. "Excuse me!" He turned around slowly, trying to identify who had called him and his eyes landed on me. "Um, are the basketball tryouts currently going on in there?"

He raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Yeah..." He was clearly waiting for me to continue and was probably wondering why I was asking such an obvious question when there was a sign posted to the door that answered it.

I blushed hotly, trying not to be too embarrassed by my blatant confusion. "Um, are they allowing spectators? Or is it a closed tryout?"

"Oh, you can go in if you'd like. But I wouldn't make much noise," he gestured towards the door. "It can make for a strong distraction for the players."

I nodded and thanked him before mustering up the courage to open the doors and pass through them. I clamped my hand around the stainless steel door handle and yanked it forward, the weight of the door nearly knocking me over. Straining only slightly, I pulled it open enough for me to slip through before letting it click shut behind me.

The stadium was enormous and there were a few faces scattered about here and there, watching as the tryouts progressed. I was near the top of the seating, practically in the nosebleeds section. Everything was bright and blue, such a drastic comparison to the red, white and gold that was constantly being thrown in my face throughout high school. I glanced down at the court and sure enough, standing there in black shorts and a red t-shirt was Troy, looking tired, a sheen of sweat glistening on his pale skin.

It was at that moment that I decided I didn't want to be seen. I didn't want Troy to know I was there; it would only throw him off even more. My being here was probably a distraction, like the boy outside the gym had said, but even still, I felt like I had to be here to support him, even if it he didn't know it.

With that notion in my head, I removed an elastic band from around my wrist and swept my hair up into a ponytail, before taking the hood of my sweater and pulling it low over my head, trying to conceal myself. I snuck into one of the chairs in the second last row and scrunched up in it, pulling my legs to my chest to rest my head.

Then, I watched.

The coach was drilling them, explaining things to them and pointing wildly. The boys watched with intense concentration, as if they were about to perform rocket science or something like brain surgery. When they actually continued with their drills, I was hit with that feeling that I was watching something glorious again, just as I had at the basketball court all those weeks ago. Troy's movements seemed effortless and his determination seemed to seep through his exterior. I hugged my legs to my chest and crossed my fingers, trying to send him some of my support, some of my determination. He was phenomenal. It must have been thrilling to be so good at something you loved.

Half an hour later, something snapped.

Troy's movements slowed, his body moving languidly. As the passing and shooting of the ball progressed, he became clumsy and out of focus. I bit my lip, so hard I feared it might bleed. What was happening? He was doing so well!

He fumbled with the ball here, missed a pass there and collided with another player of there. I swallowed tightly, my eyes never leaving him, but glancing at the coach out of my peripherals.

Time seemed to slow and I wanted to jump to my feet and scream for him. To cheer for him, to encourage him. Instead I remained stagnate, my legs going numb from the awkward position and my heart pounding in my chest.

Once an hour had gone by, things had gone from bad to worse. As the coach blew the whistle, he motioned for them to gather around and then he called out of the names of the students who would be requested to come back for another tryout.

Dilnot.

Manville.

Cunningham.

Richards.

He didn't call a Bolton.

I couldn't bear to watch the disappointment I knew was probably apparent on Troy's face, so instead I shot up out of my sheet and jogged up the steps quickly, opening the stadium door and letting the door slam shut behind me. Once outside, I slid down the wall by the door and crumpled, my head in my hands.

Troy hadn't made the cut. He wouldn't make the team. The ache I felt in my chest for him was insurmountable and I pulled at my hair, wishing more than anything that I could run to him and make the pain I was certain he was feeling go away.

I sat there for several moments in the quiet hallway, contemplating what to do next before picking myself back up, ready for the long walk to Goddard Hall.

---

I sat in my dorm room six hours later, twisting my hair into a knot at the side of my head. I pinned back a curl into the small bun and stared blankly into my reflection as Sharpay ran back and forth around the room behind me.

I felt stoic and discontent. I had not heard from Troy all day, which worried me, but the thought of approaching him was one that I didn't want to dabble with often. I had taken to busying myself for Sharpay's impending performance and the excitement that was centered around that. However, I couldn't help but remember that Troy was supposed to attend, claiming he'd meet us there if he felt up to it after tryouts. He said that yesterday, though, before the actual defeat he had experienced that afternoon, and I couldn't help but worry that maybe he wouldn't show up at all.

"Oh my god," Sharpay said suddenly. She sat down on her bed and her face had a slightly greenish tinge to it. She was dressed down for once, wearing a pair of dark washed skinny jeans tucked into brown boots, a green tank top and a long cream coloured cardigan over top. Her hands were shaking and she looked at me, her eyes wide.

"I can't do this," she said, staring me in the eye. "I can't believe I thought I could do this. I can't do this. There's no way."

I rose from where I sat and came to sit beside her, clutching her by the shoulders. "Sharpay," I said softly, shaking her gently. "You can so. You need to do this. It's not that big of a deal."

She turned to me and I could see the fear in her eyes. "No, Gabriella, it's a huge deal. I can't do this. I haven't performed in over a year and certainly not my own original work."

"But you've done plenty of acting!" I insisted, determined not to let her let this chance slip through her fingers. "This is exactly the same! All you have to do is move your voice up and down."

"No!" she shook her head and her skin was cold and clammy. "I can't. I can't. I can't."

"Sharpay!" I nearly shouted. "You'll be fine! Besides you'll have Zeke with you!"

Although it seemed impossible, her eyes grew even wider. "Oh my god, Zeke," she murmured. "Oh my god, I can't do this to him. I cannot possibly drag him down with me. That would be awful. That's it, I'm not doing it."

"Sharpay," I pleaded, reaching out to cup her shoulder. She swatted at me angrily and flopped over on her bed. I sighed heavily.

She couldn't let this moment pass her by and I refused to let her. Someone out there must be able to convince her. A part of me thought that person was probably Ryan, but at the current time, she probably wouldn't take too kindly to his intrusion. I contemplated what to do next before announcing that I'd be right back and bolting down the hall in the direction of Zeke and Troy's dorm room.

When I arrived at their door, I knocked rapidly, bouncing on the balls of my feet, eager for one of them to open the door.

It finally flung open a moment later, revealing a beaming Zeke. His guitar was perched beside the door, ready to leave with him in only twenty moments. He grinned at me.

"Hey Gabriella," he greeted brightly. "What brings you here? Troy's not around."

I raised an eyebrow, concerned. "He's not?" I asked, peering past Zeke into the room. Sure enough, it was empty. "Is he coming tonight?"

Zeke shrugged and looked down at his feet. "I don't know. I wouldn't count on it...he's seemed in a weird mood these past few days, today being the worst. I haven't seen much of him."

"Oh," I said slowly, registering the information. Troy, however, was for once, not my priority. "I'm not here for Troy anyway. I need your help."

Leaning against the doorframe, Zeke looked at me confused. "What's up?"

I sighed heavily. "It's Sharpay. She's got a bad case of stage fright. She doesn't want to perform."

Zeke stiffened and looked back down at his feet. "I see."

"So," I began, "I need you to come and speak with her. She won't listen to me, but she'll listen to you."

"How can you be so sure?" Zeke asked. "If she doesn't want to perform, she doesn't want to perform."

"Zeke," I said exasperatedly. "You have to come and help me. She can't give up this opportunity. You and I both know this."

Zeke seemed to consider this for a moment before grabbing his guitar case and shutting the door behind him. "Let's go then," he said, nodding and leading the way.

When we arrived back at my room, Sharpay was still lying in the same spot on her bed, her face ghostly pale. I thought about how everyone I knew seemed to be doubting themselves today and cringed. They didn't deserve that.

She lifted her head slightly and once she caught sight of us, she rolled her eyes and let it fall back on the bed. "Oh, Zeke, great. What is it?"

With one look at her, Zeke set his guitar on the ground and in three shift motions was at her side. He knelt down so he could meet her eye level and smiled.

"Hey, Shar," he cooed and she glared.

"We're not doing this, Zeke. We can't do this. I can't do this. End of story."

Zeke laughed and cupped her hands with his own. "Get up. Shar. We're doing this and you're going to love it."

She shook her head adamantly. "No I will not."

"Yes, you will," he leant down and kissed her cheek then and she flushed violently. "Not pick yourself up and let's go. Once we get up there, if you really feel like you're going to faint, I'll pretend the tuning is off on my guitar and that we can't perform."

It didn't take long for Sharpay to agree to this. It was easier to accept failure when you had someone else to blame. With a little more prodding, we were able to get her through the door.

Watching them interact, the way he had kissed her cheek and how she had so willingly cooperated with him. I felt that there most definitely was something more there. Zeke obviously cared deeply for Sharpay. that much was certain even back when she had been nothing but a snooty bitch to us. I wondered what the extent of their relationship was, and furthermore, where it would go.

Most of all, it intrigued me that maybe I wasn't the only one who was completely out of sorts when it came to love.

---

Jenny's was crowed that night, with people occupying all of the couches and chairs. Apparently her open mics were a big deal and only began after the halloween season was over, which it finally was. The crisp cool air of autumn was biting at my hands and face as Taylor and I made our way into the cafe, searching for a place to sit. Since everything appeared to be taken, we tucked ourselves in the corner by the make-shift stage, still close enough to the action, but faraway enough to not allow Sharpay an exit.

"Is Troy coming?" Taylor asked curiously, surveying the room. He didn't seem to be in the vicinity and he hadn't left with Sharpay and Zeke, who had to be at the cafe an hour early than the rest of us.

I shrugged, trying to seem like it wasn't a big deal that he wasn't attending, but my brow furrowed in concern. It wasn't like Troy to just not show up especially without a call, but I tried to brush it off anyway. "I don't know," I answered honestly. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Taylor stared at me, looking perplexed. "You okay, Gabriella?"

I nodded quickly and averted my gaze to the performer on stage. A lone boy with a gravelly voice and a guitar. "Let's watch this guy, Tay. Sharpay's on next."

Sighing, Taylor let the subject drop and immersed herself in the lyrics and chord progressions of the boy's song, which had something to do with robots in love. It was entertaining and thoroughly distracted me from looking at the door, waiting for Troy's messy mop of hair to pop through the door.

Sharpay stepped on stage and took a seat at the stool set up by the front of the stage. Zeke sat on the stool adjacent to her, his guitar resting on his thigh and looking at her apprehensively. She gulped nervously and looked through the crowd. I waved slightly and smiled at her, hoping she would be able to go through with this.

Reaching out, she cupped her hands around the microphone and pulled it off the stand. Cradling it in her palms, she took a deep breath and greeted the crowd. "Hey everyone," she began, her voice surprisingly steady and strong. "I'm Sharpay and this is my friend Zeke." He waved at the audience and grinned brightly, contrasting Sharpay's weak demeanor. "Um, this called 'Because I Can' and it's...it is just a song we've been working on for the last couple of weeks. It can mean a lot or it can mean nothing, but you can decide either way. Hope you enjoy it somewhat."

With that she turned to Zeke who began to strum the opening chords of the song, a slow, melancholy melody. Sharpay watched him steadily till she opened her mouth and sang softly into the microphone.

"I keep on looking through the looking glass," she sang, her voice as sweet and pure as I remembered it. "And I wanna fall on through. Out of the real world to a happy day, out of the wreckage that I do."

Her eyes focused on Taylor and I, standing off to the side and she smiled slightly. My heart swelled with pride for her and I exchanged a glance with Taylor, who seemed shocked at her talent.

"I keep on dreaming because I can, even though my eyes don't close. I keep on tripping because it's free to a place I only know." She took another breath before closing her eyes, singing more to herself than the audience. "I keep on dreaming because I can, even though my eyes don't close. I keep on slipping out of this life."

I locked my fingers together and twisted my hands, my knuckles white. Sharpay's song was so brutally honest, so telling. She felt trapped by her failure, but her indecision and I had never related to her as strongly as I did then.

The song progressed and the crowd seemed captivated by her presence and voice. The room was so quiet that it felt like it hurt to breathe without fear of disturbing the performance. Sharpay seemed practically oblivious to the crowd's attention, but the way her fingers gripped the microphone and the nervous way she was darting her eyes around told another story.

Finally, the tempo slowed and I realized we were at the last verse of the song. "Mirror, mirror, won't you kiss my cheek? And tell me I'll be okay?" she sang softly, her voice shaking now. "And warm my spirits with your sugar lips and help me wait for another day?"

With one final strum to the strings of the guitar, the song ended and the cafe erupted into cheers and whistles. Taylor and I bounced up and down, cheering for our friend, who in turn grinned excitedly and gave a little wave to the audience, before bowing and thanking us.

Sharpay skipped off the stage into the crowd. Upon arriving at where Taylor and I stood, she looked at us before squealing excitedly and throwing her hands up, joining us in our bouncing. We threw our arms around her, elated that she had overcome her fear and sang in public once more.

"Sharpay!" I cried, pulling her closer to me in our group hug. "You were amazing! That song was breathtaking!"

Taylor wiped at her face, where tear tracks were still visible. "It was so moving. Sorry Barbie, but I had no idea you were so deep."

Sharpay rolled her eyes, but clapped her hands together. "Thank you. It was so amazing, seriously. Hearing my voice reverberate through the room and just falling into the music. And the response, oh the response! I can't even!"

I stretched my neck and searched the room, trying to locate the missing members of our group. "Where's Zeke?" I asked.

Sharpay pointed to the back of the stage, where Zeke was locking up his guitar back in it's case. He joined us a moment later and slung an arm around Sharpay's shoulder's casually. She nuzzled into his side and he cupped his hand around her upper arm, pulling her closer.

"You were fantastic, Zeke!" Taylor squealed. "Seriously, wonderful."

Zeke grinned and looked down at Sharpay fondly. "Thanks, but it was all her. I just wrote the chords, she wrote the lyrics."

I smiled warmly at them. "You two make a great team."

Team. There was that word again. Ripped out of my excitement for Sharpay, I was thrown back into the realization that Troy hadn't arrived. Zeke seemed to notice as he surveyed our group. Turning to me, he raised an eyebrow.

"Troy didn't show up?"

I nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. Sharpay caught my eye and exchanged a glance with me. I knew what she was thinking - she had seen him sitting outside our dorm room the other night. I averted my gaze, not ready to let her in on the truth, but willing to accept that she probably already knew.

"Why don't you go and find him, Gabriella?" she suggested suddenly and I looked at her curiously.

"But, weren't we going out to celebrate or anything?"

Sharpay shook her head. "No way. I still need to catch my breath. We can do it some other time. Right Zeke?"

Zeke looked at me pointedly. "Yeah, you should go find it him."

Without a second glance, I got the hint and said my goodbyes, before venturing back through the chilly air.

---

Standing outside his dorm room, like I had so many times in the past couple of months, I tried to muster up the courage to knock. I knew there was a good chance he wasn't even in the room; he hadn't been earlier in the day or else he would have said something to Zeke about not attending tonight. Wouldn't he?

I was overcome with the fact that he was probably full of disappointment right now, but I was prepared to help him in any way shape or form that I could.

One deep breath later, I raised my fist and knocked on his door. There was no response. I knocked again and still, nothing.

He wasn't there.

Sighing, I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the cool wood of his door. Where was he? Was he avoiding us? Was he avoiding me? This couldn't be that big of a deal that he'd just...up and leave, could it?

I felt tears of frustration prick at my eyes and I forced them back, biting my lip. Suddenly, a voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Gabi?" My head shot up and I saw Troy standing there, a bag from the convenience store in his hand. "What are you doing?"

"Oh!" I said, blinking quickly to void myself of any tears. "I was just looking for you. You didn't come to Sharpay's performance tonight."

He blushed hotly, embarrassed at having missed the event. Scratching the back of his neck, he looked up at me bashfully. "Yeah, um, got a little sidetracked. Tell Sharpay I bet she was amazing."

I swallowed. "I will." I fiddled with my hands in front of me. "Um, how did the tryouts go?"

I probably shouldn't have asked, but it was easier than beating around the bush. His jaw tightened for a brief moment, but he smiled and waved his hand off. "Didn't make the team. Go figure."

My face crumbled. "I'm sorry. I know how important it was to you."

He shrugged, still smiling. "Ah well, it's like you said before; it wasn't that big of a deal."

"But Troy," I protested. "It was to you. I know how much it meant to you, I--"

"Gabi," he said sharply, no longer smiling. "It's not a big deal." He chuckled nervously before stepping forward and clapping me on the shoulder. "Now I'm beat so I'm going to check in for the night. You want to hang out tomorrow? We can find something to do."

"Sure," I said, nodding. "That sounds good."

"I'll see you then," he smiled briefly before unlocking his door and disappearing behind it quickly.

I stared after him, the wood of his door burning my eyes. I shuffled my feet before turning to leave, feeling out of place and empty.

_"Next time you see me and I'm not smiling, try not to hospitalize me for depression."_

_Megan Rotundi_

---

I wanted to have this one up much sooner, but the training for my AWESOME NEW JOB was much, much more extensive than I originally thought and took up all my time this week. My first thought when I found out I'd be there every day was not out of concern for my school work, but rather, WHEN WILL I HAVE TIME TO WRITE?

Thankfully, I was able to dedicate some time to writing this week and got this up just when I wanted to. I also have a long weekend because the Ontario government felt we needed a random holiday, so we got 'Family Day', so I get Monday off. I have plans to write two more chapters this weekend so if my work schedule does get more hectic, I won't leave you guys hanging.

Also, hi to my best friend and thanks for reading as well as inviting me over for random turkey dinners. :)

BTW, the song used is 'Because I Can' by Katy Rose.


	12. And If You Call, I Will Answer

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Twelve: And If You Call, I Will Answer_

---

The next morning I woke up determined to find Troy. Find Troy and explain that I had been at the tryouts and I had seen him play. That he had given his all and that he was still number one in my eyes and that I loved him and all this crazy mumbo jumbo.

Okay, the idea of telling him I loved him wasn't really one I was considering, but the first few were. He needed to know that I understood; that this _was_ a huge deal to him and that I was there for him. He had brushed the situation off so...coldly the night before. It wasn't like him and I was determined to get him to talk.

I thought about these things as I washed my hair that morning, letting all the bad feelings about the night before go down the drain along with the warm water. I felt relaxed, calm and ready to take on whatever Troy was ready to throw at me. He had spent so much time trying to convince me that we were really, truly good friends and that our friendship wasn't based around wanting to hold onto a piece of Albuquerque. I was determined to prove this theory right.

All I had to do was finish getting ready and then I was dedicating this day to finding Troy. I blow dried my hair quickly and pulled it back into a messy bun on the top of my head before swiping on some mascara and blush, trying not to look like I just rolled out of bed. Taking a deep breath, I stared at my reflection before leaving the washroom.

Stepping back into the room after my shower, I saw Sharpay pacing back and forth, anxiously. More anxious than she had been the night before. I watched her curiously before she noticed me and her eyes grew wide.

"Oh, thank god you're back!" she cried, bunching her hand in her blonde locks. "I'm having a crisis. I'm having a meltdown. Gabriella, you have to help me."

I bit my lip and stared at Sharpay, who seemed to be very much in a panic. "Sharpay, I don't mean to sound insensitive, but is there any chance this could wait? I was going to --"

"No!" She shouted suddenly and clamped a hand over her mouth, surprised at her own outburst. "I mean, seriously, please, whatever you have planned with Troy can wait."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "What makes you think it has anything to do with Troy?" I asked suspiciously.

She looked at me blankly and placed her hands on her hips. "Gabriella, almost everything you do has to do with Troy."

Dropping my toiletries bag on my dresser, I blushed hotly and sat down on my bed, my hands in my lap. Despite how badly I wanted to bolt out of the room and find Troy, Sharpay was obviously in distress.

"Okay, Sharpay, what's wrong?"

Snapping back into her dramatics, Sharpay threw her arms in the air and made her hands into fists. She pressed them against her eyes and wailed, "Zeke kissed me!"

I blinked, taken slightly aback. I had figured there was something going on between them when I saw the way he spoke to her the night before, but I never imagined that things would progress so quickly. "He did?"

"Yes!" She screeched. "He kissed me. Oh, fuck my life. What did I do to deserve this?"

"Wait, wait, wait," I said, holding my hand up to stop her. "What's the big deal? Do you not like him?"

Sharpay stared at me incredulously. "Not like him? What? No! I'm crazy about Zeke!"

"Then what's the problem?" I couldn't comprehend what was getting her so riled up if she had feelings for Zeke in the first place.

"Because!" She said, throwing herself on her bed dramatically. "I can't...I can't be with Zeke! He's so kind and so lovely and sweet and I'm...I'm just _me_! He deserves better!"

"He can't like me, Gabriella!" She said softly, burying her face in her pillow. "He just can't. He'll see what a terrible person I am and he'll give up on me just like they all do."

I walked over and sat on the edge of her bed, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Sharpay, you are not a terrible person."

"Yes I am!" she insisted, sitting up and hugging her knees to her chest. "I am an awful, awful person. Look at how I treated you! How I treated Taylor! Even how I treat your stupid boyfriend!" I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off. "I know, I know; not your boyfriend, but that's totally irrelevant."

She swallowed and her voice dropped and octave. "Look at how I treat Ryan. I can't even stand to look at him and he's my twin brother. What kind of person does that make me?"

Climbing up top her bed, I sat next to her and smiled sadly. "It makes you human, Sharpay. We all get hurt and we all deal with it differently. You can't fault yourself for behaving emotionally. Lord knows I do it all the time."

Sharpay blinked owlishly at me. "You do?"

My cheeks reddened again and I ducked my head down bashfully. "You have no idea," I said with a chuckle. "You like Zeke, right? You care about him?" She nodded slowly and I continued. "Then don't let fear hold you back, Sharpay. He kissed you. He cares about you just as much."

"Yeah, but we don't know that. We just are thinking and if. It could have been a mistake," she looked at me, her eyes wild. "Oh, my god, Gabriella, it could have been a mistake!"

"Sharpay!" I said roughly, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You need to calm down. You need to go see Zeke and talk to him about this. You're making it harder than it needs to be."

Sharpay stared at me, her brow furrowed and her eyes panicked. "But Gabriella," she said softly, weakly. "How do you know?"

"Because I make things harder than they need to be all the time," I admitted. "Just trust me on this one.

---

It took me close to twenty minutes to get Sharpay to calm down after that, and I left her in a similar state of distress considering once I had talked her down, she had talked herself back up into a frenzy. I decided it was no use and that if I didn't leave now, there was no chance that I was ever going to be able to get a hold of Troy and see this through to the end.

My first stop at his dorm room was a bust; neither he nor Zeke decided to answer, so I took residence in the common room, hoping to catch a glimpse of either of them. It was Sunday so there was no way that they could have a class and they'd have to show up at the common room sometime that day. It would just require some waiting.

Pulling a throw pillow into my lap, I considered my options for the afternoon. I could watch television until someone came in and took it over, which they were bound to do. I could read one of the many outdated gossip rag magazines on the coffee table, but that would only annoy me after a while. My eyes wandered around the room until they rested on the half open door of Ryan's dorm.

Or I could talk to Ryan, I contemplated. I hadn't spoken to him in a while and it might be interesting to get his perspective on this whole Troy situation.

Not to mention there was something I wanted to talk to him about.

Moments later, I knocked on his door softly and he called for me to come in. He was sitting cross legged on his bed, stacks of CDs spread out around him. I quirked an eyebrow and sat down on the desk chair adjacent to him.

"Hey, Gabriella!" he said brightly upon seeing me. "How have you been?"

I shrugged. "I've been better, to be honest," I said, surveying the massive mess that was on his bed. "What are you doing?"

He looked down as if just registering the pile after pile of CDs. "Oh," he said, chuckling to himself. "I'm alphabetizing my CD collection. Fall cleaning and all that."

"Ah," I said, pretending to understand and he stared at me curiously; as if it was odd that I didn't do the same thing biweekly.

He sat back against the headboard of his bed and looked at me. "Anything I can help you with...?"

I blinked and realized that there was a reason I had come here in the first place. "Well," I said almost shyly. "Sort of."

"Okay," Ryan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Shoot."

"Well," I swallowed. "Troy didn't make the basketball team."

Ryan winched. "Ouch," he said. "That can't be fun."

"Yeah," I agreed before sighing heavily. "But the thing is...he's acting like it's not a big deal, Ryan."

"Maybe it isn't."

"But it is," I insisted. "It's such a big deal. You should have seen him a couple of days before the tryouts. He was a mess, Ryan. He was as pale as a ghost and was constantly fidgeting and looked plain exhausted." I paused, recalling the dark circles under his eyes as he and I sat and talked in the hallway.

"It was so...so hard seeing him so vulnerable and down on himself," I picked at a thread on the hem of my shirt. "I couldn't do much."

"Ah, ah," Ryan said, smiling at me. "That's where you're wrong."

I looked up at him, slightly confused. "What do you mean?"

"You can do so much, Gabriella. Troy is obviously upset about this; it all goes back to male pride and even self-expectation. He's not going to fall apart to pieces in your lap over it, you can't expect that." I blushed hotly as he continued. "But the fact that you're able to sense that somethings not right said multitudes about your friendship. It also says that Troy is going about this in his own way and you need to support that in your own way, but you need to show him that."

I stared at him, slowly comprehending what he was saying. "So that means..."

"That means," Ryan grinned. "Even if you have to chain him down to a seat, you need to show him that you're there for him."

I smiled slowly. "Thanks, Ryan."

His smile grew softer and he stared at me as if realizing something. "You care about him a lot, huh?"

I nodded, hiding my blush behind the curtain of my hair. "Yeah."

"You'll be fine then, Gabriella," he smiled again. "Is there anything else you needed help with."

I pondered this for a moment before deciding that I needed to go through with what I was about to say next. "Actually," I began, "this is more something that you can help yourself with. Did you know Sharpay performed the other night?"

Ryan gaped at me, his eyes slightly large. "She did?" he asked, the excitement clearly coursing through him. "Did she really?"

I nodded excitedly. "Yep! At Jenny's cafe. She performed an original composition with Zeke."

Ryan contemplated this information in his head. "I'm proud of her," he said quietly, his mind somewhere else.

"You should be," I said earnestly. "She was amazing. You were right about what you said."

"What was that?" he asked and I smiled in reply.

"That I should give her a chance." I stood to leave before turning to him once more. "I think it's time that you take your own advice, Mr. Resider Adviser."

With that I left, leaving him to stew in his own words.

---

After talking to Ryan, I figured it might be a good bet to try to visit Troy's dorm room. Maybe in the time I was talking to Ryan, he had returned.

Once I arrived at his dorm, however, I was yanked inside the room by a panicked Zeke.

"Thank god you're here!" He announced, slamming the door shut behind me. He steered me over to his side of the room and sat me down in his desk chair before taking a seat on Troy's chair on the other side of the room. "I need your help more than anything in the world."

With one glance around the room, I was able to discover that Troy was indeed not there. I sighed and leaned back against the chair, folding my arms. "Does this have to do with Sharpay?"

Zeke gaped at me. "How did you know?" he practically wailed. "Oh, wait, duh you're her roommate!" His eyes were darting nervously around the room. "I may have screwed up big time, Gabriella."

I wanted to roll my eyes at his dramatics, but refrained. He and Sharpay were made for each other. "By kissing Sharpay?"

"She told you?!" Zeke screeched. "Oh my god, she hates me doesn't she? I made the biggest mistake! I was walking her home after our performance last night and I was just so damn proud of her and I just...I like her_ so_ much that I couldn't help it! It seemed right! But then she freaked out and bolted and now I think I've ruined everything."

"Zeke!" I said, interrupting his tirade. "You haven't ruined anything. Quite the contrary, really." He calmed down slightly and peered at me, searching for the answers. "I think there's just been a miscommunication between you and Sharpay. You had best talk about it."

"Talk?" Zeke asked, as if he had never heard the word. "You really think that will help things?"

I nodded. "Seriously, Zeke. You should just tell her what you're feeling; it will clear up a lot for her and you for you, too."

"But...talking is hard." I laughed and he looked startled.

"You'll be fine, Zeke," I grinned. "I promise." My eyes surveyed the room again and before I could stop myself, I found myself inquiring as to where Troy was.

Zeke smiled slyly. "Why do you want to know?"

I felt my face get hot. Would this blushing over Troy Bolton never end? "Shut up and answer the question, Zeke."

"Sorry," he said, the grin never leaving his face. "He hasn't been around all day. Left early this morning and went to I have no clue where. Might as well check his normal hangouts; the library, common room, Jenny's."

I nodded and bit my lip. "Did he seem okay this morning?"

Zeke's expression grew a little somber and he shrugged. "I don't know. To be honest with you, Gabriella, I think this whole basketball thing is hitting him harder than he's letting on."

I sighed. "I had a feeling."

"But," Zeke began. "If anyone can talk him out of it, it's you." He motioned for me to stand and I did so. "Now, I believe both of us need to go on a thorough goose hunt to find certain people and talk some things over, correct?"

---

Four hours later, I slumped over on the couch in the common room, sulking to myself. The day had gone by so much faster than I had wanted; hours passed like minutes and minutes like seconds. Between all the drama with Sharpay and Zeke, coupled with my talk with Ryan, I was unable to find enough time to track down Troy. He hadn't been in his dorm all day long and was no where to be seen in the building. It wasn't hard to forget that this was New York; it was impossible to find him in this huge city.

I sighed, staring out the window and feeling sorry for myself. Tucking my knees under my chin, I racked my brain, trying to think of a location he could be in. He wasn't at Jenny's and I had gone over an hour ago to ask if he had shown up all day. He hadn't, but Jenny was under strict orders to call me if he were to step in the door.

Closing my eyes I remembered his performance the day before; how he had gone from being brilliant to...not so brilliant. It had been nothing like the time I had seen him at that basketball court.

Then it hit me.

_The basketball court_. He had to be there. Jumping up from the couch, I grabbed my coat and purse that I had carelessly thrown on the cushion beside me and ran out to the elevator, eager to find him.

Why hadn't I thought of it earlier? I hadn't even thought to check the basketball court! Sure, I had no idea whether it was a place that he frequented, but it certainly was a possibility.

I walked the few blocks to the court, my face and hands burning from the harsh fall air. My jacket had no pockets, so I shoved my hands into my pockets, hoping to rid them of the bitter cold. The sun was setting and the day was losing light rapidly. Finally, I turned the last corner and came to the court with it's chain link fence and peered through it.

Sure enough, bundled up in his warm black coat was Troy, moving gracefully across the court, an orange basketball bouncing in front of him. I felt a strong wave of relief pass through me and I swallowed the rough lump in my throat, willing my heart to still it's quick beating and calm down.

This time I did not call out of him, but instead passed through the gate and let it swing closed behind me. As I stepped behind Troy to approach him, he threw the ball at the net and it narrowly missed, bouncing behind him. The ball came soaring in my direction and I caught the rebound as Troy, unbeknownst to my presence, ran a hand through his hair angrily.

"Dammit," he muttered, before turning around. His eyes fell on me and his figure stiffened even more. The upset was apparent on his face and he didn't bother hiding it from me.

"What are you doing here, Gabriella?" he asked slowly, casting a hand over his tired face.

I twirled the ball in my hands and stared down at it. I shrugged, not wanting to meet his eyes. He didn't look happy to see me and I couldn't help but feel that maybe I was approaching this the wrong way. Maybe he really didn't want to confide in me.

But it wasn't fair. I had divulged so many little things about myself along the way because he had been so open about wanting to get to know me. He had picked and prodded at my brain. As close as we had become, I still felt like there were things about him that I had no knowledge of what so ever.

"Last night," I began, swallowing again in an attempt to gain my composure. "You didn't really seem like yourself."

He looked down at his shoes. "I'm sorry about that," he offered weakly and I shook my head.

"No, Troy," I felt my voice grow thick with emotion and my heart broke at the defeated expression on his face. "You don't need to apologize for being disappointed. But please, don't..." I gulped. "Don't shut me out."

He didn't say anything a moment, but I could see the gears in his head, processing my words. "G-Gabriella," he stuttered, but stopped, words apparently failing him.

"It's not fair, Troy," I said honestly, letting the basketball drop from my hands. "We spent so many weeks building this friendship, with you constantly telling me to trust you, to be your friend, to get to know you. The one time I can even try to return the sentiment, you push me away."

"Gabriella," he tried again, but I wasn't having it.

"No, Troy!" I choked out, my voice wavering now. I twisted my raw hands, making them burn from how sore they were growing. "I just...I'm here for you. You need to know that. You need to understand that. I want to be here for you."

"Gabi," he said softer this time, and his gaze fell on my red hands. He sighed, aggravated. "You didn't even wear gloves." He stepped closer to me, so close that I could feel the warmth radiating off of him. "Your hands are so raw."

Gently, he took my hands in his own gloved ones, cupping his fingers around them. Both of my small hands were enveloped in his large ones and he raised them to his mouth before blowing hot air on them. He looked me in the eye.

"I know that you're here for me, Gabi," he said roughly. "I can tell by the way you're standing in front of me, your cheeks and hands so red and raw. You're crazy. You didn't need to do this."

"But I did," I said, the emotion still cracking my voice. "I needed you to know."

He smiled slightly, genuinely. "I knew, Gabi. I saw you yesterday."

It was like the wind was knocked out of me and my jaw fell open. I stared up at him, searching his eyes for further explanation. "You...you what?"

His smile grew larger. "I saw you at the tryouts yesterday. It was about forty-five minutes into them and I glanced over and saw you, hiding behind your hood with your knees tucked up on the chair. I was already performing like shit by then and knew making the team was a slim chance, but seeing you there..." He paused and licked his chapped lips. "Seeing you there made all the world of difference."

"You didn't have to come, Gabriella," he whispered. "But you did. And that means so, so much to me. You have no idea."

In one shift moment, he dropped my hands and pulled me into his arms in a strong embrace. I stood shocked for a moment at the contact before lifting my limp arms to wrap myself around him. He pulled me even closer and buried his head into my crook of my neck, the heat from his breath making me shiver.

Standing there in a the middle of an empty basketball court in Troy's arms, I felt content, elated and excited all at once. His body was so warm and his scent intoxicating.

I felt like I could stay there with him forever.

Pulling back, he looked at me and smiled brightly. "Thank you, Gabi," he said so quietly that I had to strain to hear him. "Thank you so much."

I looked up at him and smiled back, feeling my heart rise bounce around in my chest. "I'm always here for you, Troy."

With that he grinned and looked back down at my raw hands. Working quickly, he peeled one glove off of his right hand and extended it to me. I shook my head, not wanting to take the only source of warmth from him.

"No, it's okay," I protested. "I was being irresponsible. There's no need for you to try to remedy that, especially when it doesn't benefit you."

Troy rolled his eyes and stepped forward, taking my right hand and pulling his glove over it. It was big and bulky, my fingers drowning it, but the warmth was remarkable.

"I have a plan," he said with a cheeky grin. Letting my hand drop, he grasped my bare left one in his right and enlaced his fingers with my own. Then, he pulled my hands closer to him before tucking our intertwined hands into the confines of his warm coat pocket.

I blushed and looked up at him, surprised to see the red blush spreading over his own cheeks. Or maybe it was just the cold.

"This way, we'll both be warm," he said and then jerked his head to the exit. "Wanna head on home?"

I nodded gratefully as Troy pulled me closer so I was tucked into his side. I had no idea what was happening between us. A part of me felt that Troy was so kind that he probably would do this for anyone, but another part of me told me otherwise. Not wanting to dissect it any further, I let the thoughts drop from my mind and allowed myself to focus on the moment.

I felt warm in more ways than one, the bitter cold no longer affecting me as we walked down the chilly streets of New York; the comfort of his hand holding mine overpowering all other sensations.

"_You are the only person I can trust. And I-I need that." _

_- Ben Covington_

---

One chapter down this weekend, one to go. I'm very pleased that I was able to finish this and I'm more than ecstatic at how the last scene turned out. :)

This is being posted because the best friend could not wait. I said to her, 'should I post it tonight or tomorrow morning?' to which she responded, 'tonight, duh.'

A special no thanks goes out to my brother, who came home late last night and ruined my sleep by deciding to make more noise than a rock concert. This threw off my entire sleep pattern and I woke up at seven AM this morning completely discombobulated and thinking that there were pictures of Zac and Vanessa on Valentines Day on my wall.

Not. Fun.

The next chapter is one I have been wanting to write since I started planning the story so I am really, really looking forward to it. Hopefully I can start it this evening (after I tackle my boatloads of homework) and finish it tomorrow. :)


	13. We're Dead if Someone Catches Us

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Thirteen: We're Dead if Someone Catches Us_

---

The following Wednesday when I woke up, I had the weird feeling that something was going to happen today. Something good, something_ great _even. Rolling over, nestled comfortably in my warm bed the soft rays of the morning sunlight were streaming through my window, casting a glow on everything they hit. Looking to the other side of the room I saw that Sharpay was also still cuddled up in bed, looking content.

Swinging my legs over my bed, I paddled over to the window and let my forehead rest against the glass, the cold from outside seeping through it. Everything in New York seemed so cold now as the winter season approached, but just a few days ago I had been warmer than I ever had been before.

Walking home with Troy was a comfort like no other, my hand carefully enlaced with his. The feel of his warm palm against mine was thrilling and I felt empty when he finally unclasped our hands upon arriving at my dorm room half an hour later. He had smiled slowly and bid me a goodnight, looking over his shoulder at me every so often as he made his way down to his own dorm room.

Moments like the one that had passed between us on Sunday night were the kind of thing I had dreamt about since seeing Troy walk into the room in ninth grade religion. Just to have him holding my hand in his seemed to surreal and yet so natural all at once. I felt like no time had ever passed between us, that we had never spent four years not being friends but were indeed always connected, always intertwined.

There was still an awful lot of things about him that I knew nothing about and I could only hope than in the coming days, months, years even, we'd be able to change that and get to know one another in ways that true friends really knew. Maybe even in different ways than that.

Still the notion of anything truly romantic between was daunting and in my mind, completely unlikely. Aside from moments like that night where he took my hand, or the party, I still had no idea what Troy felt about me.

This didn't stop me, however, from stepping away from the window and opening the small jewelry box on my dresser. Carefully, I pulled out the delicate gold chain with the angel pendant dangling from it and held it in my hands.

"This is for luck in life and love," my mother had said, handing it to me when I turned thirteen. "My mother gave it to me to give to you one day." She explained as she brushed back strands of hair from my face. "Wear it everyday you need a boast in luck or just when you feel that the day's important."

Today, however, was Wednesday and nothing special, but I carefully unclasped the necklace and placed it around my neck anyway. Maybe there was something lying beneath the surface of today and I just had yet to encounter it.

---

Despite my earlier notions about the day, that Wednesday turned out to be nothing special as it progressed. I went to classes and the library, ate lunch and cleaned my side of the dorm while Sharpay did her homework. The two of us met up with Taylor for an early dinner before Sharpay departed to finally got talk to Zeke and Taylor left to study for about four more hours, or so she dramatically said.

I hauled myself up in my dorm room, flipping through notes for tests that were weeks away and skipping through songs on my iPod. Nothing seemed to interest me and quite frankly, I was bored.

Then a rapid knock at my door pulled me out of my trance. Stepping off my bed, I answered the door and was surprised, yet delighted to see Troy standing there.

"Hey, Gabi," he said almost restlessly, his cheeks flushed and his eyes dancing. "Can I come in?"

I smiled at his excitement and stepped aside to let him in my room. "Alright," I said slowly. "What's gotten you all riled up?"

Once inside my room he peered around conspicuously to make sure the room was Sharpay free. Digging into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a set of keys. I stared at him blankly.

"What's that?" I asked as he dangled them in front of me and his large grin grew even brighter.

"They, dear Gabriella, are the keys to the university's swimming pool," he said with grandiosity that I felt was unwarranted.

"Okay," I felt confused. What was the big deal? The pool was open during the afternoons anyways and it was closed now, nearing eight thirty at night. "What's your point and why do you of all people have them?"

Sitting down on my bed, Troy bounced his leg up and down. "Zeke's part of the swim team and after everything that's been going on lately, with basketball and all," he ducked his head down, embarrassed before continuing, "he said he figured I could use a little escape. So he snatched the spare set from the coach's office after practice today and gave them to me to use."

My body stiffened as I slowly started to register where this was going. "You don't...you don't mean..."

"So," he said, cutting me off, "he figured I could use a little escape and I thought, who would I want to escape with more than my dear friend Gabriella Montez?"

I gaped at him. "So you want me to..."

"Break into the pool with me, Gabi," he said breathlessly.

I sunk down in my desk chair, my mind racing. "No." There was no way, no how I was breaking into the school's pool with him. If we got caught we would be expelled, no questions asked and if by the slim chance we were spared we'd both be in a hell of a lot of trouble. This was not something I could risk.

"Gabi!" He darted over to my side and knelt in front of me. "Please! We won't get caught, I promise! I talked to Zeke and he said right now is the safest time to go. All we have to do is make sure we put the coach's keys back where they belong and he'll never know the difference! There's like nil security right now. A couple of kids broke in a few years back and all they got was community service and that was more because they had alcohol with them. I'm not bringing alcohol with us."

"Troy," I said, my eyebrows furrowed and my arms crossed. "This just seems like a really reckless idea. We would be in so much trouble if we got caught!"

"Gabi!" he grabbed my hand in one of his. "I wouldn't do anything to get you in serious trouble. I've thought about this. It will be fun and I'd really, really love to do this with you. I owe you."

"For what?"

"For being so amazingly supportive and just.._awesome_ these past few days," he said, letting go of my hand and scratching the back of his neck.

I raised my eyebrows. "So you want to repay me by getting expelled?" He narrowed his eyes. "You don't even need to repay me. Besides, I don't even have a bathing suit!"

Troy rolled his eyes and groaned. "Neither do I, but that's not the point, Gabi. Look," he stood up and began to make his way to the door. "If you really, really don't want to do this, I understand."

His hand was on the doorknob as I called out to him. He turned slowly and I stood, grabbing my coat off of the back of my chair.

"I trust you, Troy," I said, swinging my coat over my shoulders. "But if we get caught I'm faking amnesia and saying you kidnapped me or something, got it?"

He grinned and opened the door for me. "Got it, Gabi."

Outside the door was Troy's backpack and I looked down at it curiously. Poking out from one of the sides was a white, fluffy terry-cloth towel. I looked up at him with inquiring eyes and he flushed hotly.

"I kind of figured I could persuade you."

I stuck my hands on my hips and smiled slowly. "And if you didn't?"

"Well, then I was going to kidnap you."

---

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," I muttered as I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, trying to regain some heat. Troy stood next to me, fumbling with the keys in his hands in an attempt to open the door. "This is grounds for expulsion."

Troy grinned a lopsided smile at me as he placed the key in the door and turned. My hand shot out and grabbed his, stilling his movements. "We should go back." My voice was panicked and much higher than usual.

"Gabi," Troy said, sliding his hand into mine and giving it a squeeze. "I'm not going to get you expelled. Zeke and I discussed this; security here isn't tight between the hours of nine and eleven. Once midnight strikes, if we're still here I'll whisk you out of the pool like Cinderella."

I giggled, feeling a rush of excitement pass through me. This was the most crazy absurd thing I had done since I decided to come to New York. Troy and I were breaking into the pool at NYU at nine fifteen on a Wednesday night for no other reason than we could.

Two turns of the key later and one push, the door was open and a blast of warm air and the scent of chlorine hit me. I looked up at Troy and he looked at me and we burst into giddy laughter.

"We're in," he said, grinning brightly. Pulling open the door, he stepped aside and waved his hand gallantly. "After you, my lady."

Giggling behind my palm, I obliged, thanking him before stepping inside. The pool was massive, the only light coming from the few inside the actual pool, casting shadows and water reflections onto the walls. I drew in a deep breath and turned to Troy, who was making sure that the door closed silently behind us.

"This is crazy," I breathed, my voice quiet and even. He walked towards me slowly, the softest of smiles spread on his face. He shrugged and looked out to the pool.

"Maybe," he admitted, his eyes focused on the clear blue water. "But I think we needed this."

I quirked an eyebrow, my heart pounding in my chest. "_We_?" I asked slowly.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and I followed it's path. "Yeah," he looked back at me to meet my eyes. "We." He walked over to the coach's office and jimmied a key into the lock, turning the door open. He stepped into the office and returned a moment later, grinning. "Keys are back where they should be, safe and sound. Mission accomplished."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and gazed at the pool. "This is still crazy."

Laughing beside me, Troy walked over to the bleachers and dropped the bag with towels in it on them. "Embrace it, Gabi," he said, bending over to pull his shoes off.

As he worked on the buttons of his shirt, I folded my arms over my chest. "I don't even have a bathing suit!" I said suddenly. "What am I supposed to swim in? My underwear?"

Troy flushed and shrugged. "That's my plan," he said and in one shift movement, grabbed the hem of his navy t-shirt and pulled it over his head. I gulped at the sight that followed; his tan skin taunt over his defined chest muscles. He was gorgeous.

"Come on, Gabi," he said, his face boyish and his grin childish. "Swim in your clothes if you have to, just get in the pool." He undid his belt buckle and discarded of his jeans seconds later before running past me and diving into the pool. He emerged a moment later, drenched from head to toe, the water glistening on his skin. He shook his head wildly.

"Gabi!" he shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Get your ass in the pool!"

I stared down at my shoes and despite the flutters of nervous butterflies coursing through my stomach, I worked one shoe off with my foot and then other until both were discarded. Next I carefully unclasped my necklace, setting it safely in one of my sneakers. Unzipping my jacket, I rolled my eyes at Troy who was treading water and looking at me with a wide smirk on his face.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I said, pulling down the waistband of my track-pants.

When they fell to the floor I felt ridiculously exposed and my cheeks burned from the heat flooding to them. I saw Troy's eyes on me and pulled down my sweater in an attempt to cover myself.

"Hey!" I yelled. "No looking!"

Troy grinned cockily. "What? I can't sneak a peek? No lace thong, Gabi!"

I flushed even darker, yanking on my shirt. I was wearing little yellow boy shorts with monkeys on them. "My underwear is perfectly sensible! Not slutty!"

Troy laughed and ducked under the water, swimming closer to me. "They're cute," he said, his face slowly growing red at the insinuations of his statement. "Not that I really looked or anything, but, uh, you know, I mean, I glanced up and--"

I laughed at his growing discomfort and debated whether to remove my sweater or not. It wasn't as if what I was wearing underneath was skimpy or sexy; a thin white t-shirt over a simple pink cotton bra. If I were to wear it in the water, it would be soaked and weight me down. Plus I'd have nothing to wear home. Weighing the pros and cons, I looked over at Troy who was eyeing me intently.

"No looking until I'm in the water!" I snapped and he averted his gaze quickly.

"Okay okay!" he shouted, inching in the water until only his head poked out. "Stop making me out to be some kind of pervert!"

"Turn around!" I demanded and once his back was to me, I pulled my sweater off, leaving the thin t-shirt I had on underneath, before stepping back and giving myself a running start before jumping into the pool, creating a large splash around me.

The water hit me and I gasped at how surprisingly warm it was. It was soft and inviting and when I came to the surface for air, I was grinning.

Troy turned me with an identical look on his face and he waded over to me. "Not such a bad idea after all, huh?"

"It's still crazy and we're still going to get expelled if we get caught!" I said, splashing water at him. "But other than that...this isn't so bad."

"Glad you agree," he said cockily before swimming forward me. I swam away from him, performing a graceful breaststroke.

"You've got a nice form," he said, watching me swim. I smiled and ducked my head under the water before swimming closer to him.

"I used to swim, you know," I said proudly. He raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

I nodded. "Yep. I even have lifeguard training."

He smirked. "So you can save me if I drown?"

I grinned at him before swimming away. "If I feel like it."

We spent the next while swimming back and forth through the pool, deciding to race at one point. Despite my background in swimming, Troy was still more athletic and beat me by a few seconds, but it was still close. We laughed and joked, splashing and chasing each other around the pool until I stopped to rest.

"God, I love New York," I said, leaning against the wall of the pool. "Only here would I feel daring enough to break into my university's pool."

Troy laughed and ducked his head halfway into the water, blowing bubbles with his nose. I laughed at his childishness and he joined me, the relaxed atmosphere between us settling in comfortably.

"What do you mean?" he asked once he surfaced, bringing a hand up to swipe his dripping bangs out of his eyes.

Kicking my legs underneath the water, I settled back against the wall. "Just...here I feel free, you know? Not like home in Albuquerque. I feel free to let out a different side of myself."

"I know what you mean," he said, quietly. I observed him as he avoided my eyes. Clearing his throat, he pushed back off the wall and swam a couple of feet away from me. "You remember that night at the beginning of the year? On the roof of our building when you said you wanted to go back home?"

I nodded, my cheeks burning at the memory. "Yeah, why?"

He didn't say anything for a minute, still avoiding my eyes. "Do you remember how you said that you gave up everything coming here? That it wasn't what your mom wanted at all?"

I nodded along, still unsure of where he was going with this. He visibly swallowed and brought a hand to the back of his neck. "I said my parents didn't want me to come here either. That didn't even touch on half of it."

I left the wall and paddled over to him. "What do you mean?" I asked as I got closer, stilling my movements and letting my feet rest on the pool's bottom. He seemed uncomfortable and yet dying to let something out. "You can tell me."

He bit his lip before looking me in the eyes. "I know. Which is why I am. I...the truth is I did the exact opposite of what my parents had planned for me." He sighed heavily as he treaded the water. "My whole life was planned out for me. I was going to attend University of Albuquerque with my best friend and I had a spot on the team as a starter. Full ride, too."

My eyes grew slightly wide. He had gotten a free ride to U of A? "You gave it up to come here?"

He nodded as if ashamed. "Yeah. Playing for the Redhawks, doing what my father wanted...it was never what I wanted. I had never felt so trapped _ever_. So one day I decided I wanted to go somewhere else. Somewhere where I could do more than just play basketball."

"What did your parents say?" I asked, never feeling so close to him before. His situation was so like mine it was scary.

"They were furious, especially my dad," he chuckled darkly, his eyes fixed on the shimmering water. "He couldn't believe I was giving up a full ride to his alma matter to go to some place like New York. He knew that it meant giving up a guaranteed spot on a college team, that I'd have to work to get on the one here."

"That's why making the team was such a big deal to me," he admitted. "I just felt that if I did, I would be able to prove to him that it didn't matter that I didn't follow in his footsteps, that I could still do things on my own terms. Then I got to the tryouts and it was the exact same bullshit I encountered in high school, Gabi."

My heart ached for him as he continued. "A bunch of guys trying to be better than each other just for...pride. The coach was barking orders and all I could do was replay every one of my practices and games that had been under my father's watch. It made me sick."

He looked at me then, his eyes burning into mine and I felt a shiver run through me. "Then I saw you and I remembered how you had given up everything for New York, too. That you gave up this silly glory of a cliched speech at graduation for the honest truth. In that moment, you represented everything I wanted to be. Then looking back at the coach and the flock of players, I realized this wasn't what I wanted either."

"So you threw the tryouts?" I gaped at him, my eyes wide. He shook his head quickly.

"Not exactly," he sighed. "But I didn't perform as well as I could have. Being on the team, playing basketball...it was always something my dad had wanted me to do. I figured if I was really meant to make the team, and I know this sounds awful, but this is how these things work; then my name would be enough. It wasn't."

I swam closer to him, trying to get a good look at his face so I could gauge what he was feeling. "Then why were you so upset afterwards?"

"My dad," he said softly, swallowing. "I knew I was letting him down and as much as I don't want to follow the path he paved for me...I don't want to do _that_ either. He didn't take it so well when I told him the other day."

I wanted to reach out and touch him, but given our lack of clothing it felt too intimate. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Don't be."

I floated on my back for a moment, kicking my legs out in front of me, letting the smooth water surround me. "I was supposed to go to Stanford, you know."

He laughed suddenly and I looked at him, startled. "What?" I asked, confused. "What's so funny?"

His eyes were dancing in mirth as he looked at me. "You just don't seem like the type of girl to go to Stanford. You're studious, yes, but you're...you're something else, Gabi." He smiled. "Not many people would break into the pool with me."

I splashed in his direction, sending a huge wave of water over him. He sputtered as the water hit his eyes and mouth and I laughed loudly.

"If you're trying to say that you couldn't imagine me anywhere else but New York," I grinned cheekily. "Then the same goes for you, Bolton."

His eyes grew wild and he grinned before diving into the water over to me. I felt strong arms wrap around me underneath the water and he shoved my head under it's surface. I choked as the water filled my lungs and turned the water, my eyes opening by their own accord. Beneath the surface I saw Troy, holding his breath and staring back at me.

Our gaze didn't break and then Troy held up his hand, ticking off the time with his fingers. I smiled in spite of ourselves and held my breath, the two of us instinctually communicating that a contest was being held between us.

I broke the surface a moment later, failing to hold my breath longer than he did and he popped up shortly after. We laughed together and I caught a glimpse of the clock behind him. It was nearing quarter to eleven.

"We should get out," I said logically. "If Zeke's correct, security will be here soon and I don't really feel like getting caught or faking my own kidnapping."

Troy laughed and swam over to the pool's ledge before lifting his upper body out of the water. I admired the way the water rippled down his back and arm muscles before swimming over to the ladder myself. As I walked up, I found Troy standing at it's top, his hand extended to me.

The cool air hit me and goosebumps speckled my skin instantly. I grasped Troy's hand and he helped to pull me out.

"Careful," he warned. "The floor's wet over here. We wouldn't want you to slip."

Letting my hand drop, he walked over to where our discarded clothes were and pulled two large towels from his bag. Unfolding one, he scrubbed at his hair furiously, trying to dry it before throwing it over his shoulder. I stood, my arms folded around me as I shivered, my teeth beginning to chatter.

Troy glanced up at me and his eyes softened. "Gabi," he said, "You're shivering." He walked over to me with one of the towels in his hands and unfolded it quickly. "Let's get you warmed up."

Draping the towel over my shoulders, he stepped closer to me so that there was very little space between us. He brought his hands to my shoulders and rubbed up and down on my arms in an attempt to warm me. The warmth coupled with his closeness made my heart pound in my chest and I looked up at him.

His gaze met mine and suddenly everything grew very still. The water seemed to stop moving and the ticking of the clock quieted. Time refused to move as Troy's gaze darted from my eyes to my lips repeatedly, as if asking permission for something. My own eyes searched his face, from his strong cheekbones to his stunning blue eyes to his thin pink lips.

His hands drifted down my arms to rest on my waist and he pulled me flush against him. Hesitantly, I raised a hand and rested it on his chest, feeling his heart thump beneath my palm. He ducked his head down and inched towards me and I followed suit, my heart jumping and screaming in my chest. I could hear his uneven breathing and feel his warmth breath on my face as my eyes slid shut.

Then everything fell. The clicking of a key in the lock behind us made us pull back and my eyes grew panicked.

"Shit," Troy whispered and moving quickly, scooped up our clothes in his arms and flung his backpack of his arm.

"Troy!" I hissed, panicked. My heart was pounding still, but not out of anticipation but fear. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

"That way!" he said, pointing to the door with the large red exit sign behind it. "Go, go, go!" With his free palm he grabbed my hand and yanked me forward so I was running after him, still trying to hold the towel around myself. He slammed into the door with his shoulder and shoved it open, pulling me through it.

Once on the other side I realized we were in a small alcove that led to the change-rooms. I could hear movement on the other side of the pool as a voice called out, inquiring loudly as if to whether anyone was there or not. Troy and I held our breaths as we scrambled to put our clothes on. I yanked my track-pants on backwards and pulled my sweater over my damp top. Flinging on my coat and shoving my shoes on, I looked at Troy who was already fully clothed, his coat still open and trying to make the towels fit in his bag.

"Just leave it!" I said desperately and he jumped up, nodding in agreement before we raced through the next door that led to outside. Once the cold city air hit us, a rush of adrenaline raced through my veins and when Troy extended his hand, I accepted it and held on tightly as we ran down the streets.

A few blocks away and out of breath, we stopped running and allowed time to catch our breaths. Panting and feeling my cold t-shirt cling to me underneath, my icy hair dripping, I looked at Troy who was bent over holding his knees and gasping for breath.

"Oh...my...god..."I breathed, trying to catch my breath. "That was...that was..."

"Insane," he finished, still gasping for air. "Oh, god, Gabi, I am so, so sorry. That was so, _so_ close."

Drinking in the oxygen I stepped forward and laughed slightly. Troy looked up at me, alarmed.  "What's so funny?" he demanded and I only laughed harder.

"That was one of the best things I've ever done," I said between giggles and Troy grinned.

"Me too, Gabi." He placed an arm around me and pulled me to him so that I was once again tucked to his side. He was warm and smelt of chlorine. "Me, too. Now let's get home. I don't want to be responsible for you getting pneumonia."

I brought my hand up to curl around his waist, burying even closer to him. Side by side, that's how we walked home and I was met with the thought that I could get used to this.

"_But it was nothing, which is a good thing, because if it had been a genuine almost-kiss moment, life would get really complicated."_

_- Felicity Porter, 'Felicity Was Here'_

---

Don't hate, don't hate! They'll get there, I promise. I just wanna mess with them for a while and expand on a few things. And develop relationships between certain other characters.

(And maybe sort of have some character cameos of other yet to be introduced Wildcats...?)

Patience is the key and I'm so happy to see how much you guys pick up on. I want to respond to reviews and let you that your musings are correct or incorrect, but it would ruin everything that I have planned.

:)


	14. Every Step is a New Love Letter

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Fourteen: Every Step is a New Love Letter_

---

I woke up the next morning, feeling content, warm and overall, terribly, terribly happy. I was half awake, but felt the security of my blankets around me and a comforting feeling that I couldn't place. I searched my mind as I crept out of unconscious state, trying to recall what had put this permanent smile on my face. Like a lightbulb, it all flashed back to me. Cool, clear water, the strong scent of chlorine and the burning feeling of Troy's hands on my waist. The closeness of our bodies and the water that glistened on his lips as he. Running so fast I felt my heart would burst.

Was it all just a dream? As my eyes slowly opened, I felt something soft tickle my face and they snapped open. Looming above me was Sharpay, her long blonde hair dancing on top of my face.

I groaned and rolled over, covering my face with my duvet. "Sharpay!" I moaned. "What are you doing?"

She sniffed the air a couple of times and stood up straight. "You smell like chlorine. I hate the smell of chlorine."

A slow smile spread across my face at her observation as I realized it wasn't a dream. It had really happened. Troy and I really had broken into the pool the night before. He really did divulge a part of him. We really did almost...didn't we?

Sitting up in my bed, I swung my legs over the side and sat on the edge of my bed. I folded my hands in my lap and looked up at Sharpay.

"I broke into the pool last night," I said seriously, averting my gaze to look at the floor.

Sharpay, who was half way across the room and drinking from a paper cup of coffee sputtered and choked before turning around quickly and her eyes very wide. "You what?" she exclaimed.

"With Troy," I finished and met her eyes again. "We almost got caught."

"Wait, wait, wait," she said, coming to stand in front of me. "You broke into the university swimming pool last night with Bolton? How did that happen?!"

"Zeke's a part of the swim team," I explained, "He gave Troy the key saying that he could use a night off and Troy wanted me to come. That's what happened."

It sounded so absurd as I said it out loud, like I was making up some kind of extravagant dream. But it wasn't; it really truly happened. The reality of it was so unsettling and exciting all at once that I felt almost as if I was going to throw up.

Sharpay sat on her own bed, her legs falling out from underneath her. "Whoa," she said quietly, staring straight ahead. "That's kind of epic."

I nodded slowly. "I think we almost kissed."

Sharpay's head snapped up and her jaw fell open. "You what?"

"I think we had an almost kiss moment," I said almost monotonously. "I'm not sure, though."

"Okay, how can you not be sure?" Sharpay leapt off her bed to come sit next to me. "Give me details! What happened?"

"We were standing by the pool. I was cold and he was...he was trying to get me warm and we were really close and...yeah."

Sharpay looked away at the floor, not saying anything for a moment. "I think you did. I don't know. I wasn't there. Whoa." She looked up and gaped at me. "I never thought you'd guys finally stop dancing around each other."

"Sharpay, you're forgetting that nothing happened," I pointed out. That was right, nothing had happened between Troy and I, but that didn't mean anything wasn't _going_ to happen. The memory of our closeness the night before was replaying in my mind like a song that I couldn't shake. It was so tangible, I felt like I could reach out and take it further, make it happen. I touched my lips, imagining what it would have been like if his had kissed mine.

I had imagined kissing Troy Bolton hundreds of billions of times over the last four years, but never had I thought that there would be a moment where such a thing could actually happen. Yet, it had.

Hadn't it?

Even still, I didn't want to dwell on it. Creating crazy fantasies between the two of us would only get me trouble. It had brought me to New York, after all.

"How was your night?" I asked Sharpay numbly. She looked at me, her nose scrunched in disgust but seemed to understand that I didn't want to discuss Troy and I's potential almost-kiss-moment any further.

She bit her lip. "It was good. I talked to Zeke, though we really didn't discuss the kiss thing. It was on the tip of my tongue but I couldn't bring myself to bring it up. However...we're going to perform together at Jenny's again next week on Wednesday before we all go away for Thanksgiving."

I smiled excitedly for her, snapping out for my trance. "That sounds awesome. Tay and I will be there for sure, and I'll even make sure to drag Troy along."

In that moment, all the memories from the night before came rushing back to me and a swooping feeling passed through my stomach.

"Are you replying your potential almost-kiss-moment with Troy again?" Sharpay asked, folding her arms across her chest and staring at me pointedly.

"Maybe." I swallowed, looking at Sharpay. "I just woke up yesterday and had this...this _feeling_, you know? That yesterday was going to be important. That's why I --" My eyes suddenly grew three times in size and my heart leapt in my throat as I felt the bare skin on my collarbone.

"What?" Sharpay asked, noticing my odd movements. "What's wrong?"

"My necklace," I said, jumping off the bed and running to where my clothes from last night were discarded on the floor. "Oh my god, my necklace."

I had taken my necklace off and put it in my shoe and hadn't given it another thought. Between almost kissing Troy and almost getting caught, my mind was scattered all over the place and I forgot completely about it. Picking up my sneakers from their spot on the floor, I turned them over anxiously, shaking them out to see if would fall out. It didn't and a sick feeling fell over me.

"What's wrong?" Sharpay said concerned. I began to rummage through my stuff, trying to see if it had caught on my jacket or my track pants or anything. It didn't seem to be anywhere in sight.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to her, my hands shaking. "My necklace. _My grandmother's necklace_. I took it off last night and put it in my shoe. Troy grabbed all of our stuff in a hurry when we heard someone coming. It must have fallen out."

I sat back on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and my hands to my eyes. "Oh my god, my mom's going to kill me."

"Maybe it won't be so bad," Sharpay said sweetly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "She'll understand."

I looked up and stared at her blankly. "What? I'm supposed to tell her that I lost her mother's necklace when I _broke into my university's swimming pool with a boy_?"

Sharpay considered this for a moment before speaking. "Yeah, you're screwed."

---

Two hours later I was still pulling apart my side of the room in some vain attempt to find my necklace. Thoughts that it had maybe slid underneath my bed or into some nook or cranny wouldn't escape my mind and I refused to give up hope as I yanked the sheets off my bed.

"Seriously, Gabi," Sharpay said. She was laying across her own bed, doing homework for her drama history class. "It's gone. Just accept it, think of a way to tell your mom and then start planning your funeral."

"I can't!" I wailed, flipping over my mattress. "Sharpay, my mother is going to kill me and if there's some chance out there that I can find said necklace then I am going to take it!"

The necklace had been one of the few items my mother had kept when her mother had passed away. She had never specifically said it, but having the necklace as an heirloom, something to pass down from generation to generation was a big deal to her. I could see it in her eyes when she gave me the necklace for my sixteenth birthday. Now I had gone and lost it and my mother would be appropriately heartbroken.

Sharpay rolled her eyes and went back to her work. A knock at the door made her head shoot up and she looked at me expectantly.

"You going to get that?" I shook my head and sighing agitated, she went up to answer it.

"Hey, Zeke!" she said, her voice slightly higher. "Troy! Come in!"

I froze where I stood, shaking out the contents of my backpack and turned to the door slowly. Troy and Zeke stood there, curious expressions on their face.

"What happened to your side of the room, Gabriella?" Zeke asked, surveying the disaster area.

"Yeah," Troy said in agreement as he closed the door behind him. "It looks like a hurricane blew past here."

"Um, spring cleaning?" I asked weakly. It was a lame attempt, but it was better than nothing.

Troy and Zeke exchanged glances. "It's November," Troy said with a lopsided smile.

Scrambling up, I pulled my mattress back on the frame. "Yeah, well, it autumn cleaning there!" I said with a nervous laugh. "Ryan, the R.A. does it all the time. You should totally try it."

Sharpay rolled her eyes. "He's an idiot and Gabriella here is freaking out because she lost some necklace last night."

"That sucks," Zeke commented before turning to Sharpay and the two of them began to talk animatedly, excitedly. Troy's eyes, however, fell on me and his brow creased in concern.

"You lost your necklace? When?" he swallowed.

I didn't say anything, avoiding his gaze. "It's not a big deal."

He stepped closer to me, his expression growing steadily grimmer. "It wasn't when we broke into the pool, was it?"

When I didn't reply, his eyes grew wide and he stepped back. "Shit. It wasn't your grandmother's, was it? The angel pendant?"

I nodded and he ran a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't have made you break into the pool with me," he said, repentant and I looked up at him.

"Why?" I asked, feeling slightly hurt. Was he regretting what we had done?

"Because," he continued, looking down at the ground. "We almost got caught and now you've lost your necklace." His eyes met mine and he held my gaze before continuing. "We risked so much by doing that and I shouldn't have pushed you. I'm so sorry; I know how much the necklace meant to you."

"Troy," I said firmly. "It's a necklace, not the end of the world. Last night was far too much fun so please, don't let this dampen the experience."

"But..." Troy looked down again. "Your mom is probably going to kill you now."

I laughed slightly. "Probably. But it was worth it."

And it was. Even though I had lost my necklace, my family heirloom...being with Troy and having as much fun was we did made up for it. It took the bad out of the situation and made it all good. It cemented my friendship with him, showed just how close we had really become. Besides, that potential almost-kiss-moment by the pool...it was something else entirely.

"So you don't..." he swallowed again before rubbing the back of his neck. "You don't hate me for asking you to break into the pool with me? You're not mad?"

I stepped forward and placed my hand on his forearm, shaking my head and smiling. "I could never hate you, Troy."

It was the truth.

"I have to head to the library," Troy said suddenly, pulling back from my touch and I looked at him confused. "I'll um, see you later."

I looked after him as he began to walk towards the door. "Do you want some company?" I asked, not wanting him to leave.

He shook his head. "Nah, I won't be any fun. Just studying."

"I don't mind," I insisted, but he just shook his head again.

"Really, Gabi," he said with a soft smile. "I'll see you later."

With that he left and I was stood standing there awkwardly as Sharpay and Zeke flirted obnoxiously. Noticing the silence from my side of the room, they looked at me.

"You okay?" Zeke asked and looked around the room. "Where'd Troy go?"

I sighed. "He left."

Sharpay looked at Zeke and then picked up her purse. "We're going out for lunch," she said, not looking away from his eyes as if communicating something to him silently. "Do you want to come?"

I shook my head and began to repair the mess that was my side of the room and they left quietly. It was odd with Troy; we had suddenly switched roles. _He_ was the uncertain one. It felt weird and I couldn't comprehend his hasty departure; how he had left so quickly all over the necklace.

Everytime I thought I had our friendship figured out, something happened to turn it upside down. It was enough to make me feel crazy.

Half an hour later, a knock at the door interrupted my steady cleaning and I jumped up to answer it, hoping with every part of me that it was Troy. Swinging open the door, I was dismayed to see that it was only Ryan, holding a flyer.

"Hiya, Gabriella!" he said brightly and presented me with a bright neon flyer. "Just a friendly invitation to the dorm's Thanksgiving dinner in case you'll be spending the holiday here."

"Oh," I said, accepting the flyer. "Thank you. I'll be heading home, actually. But thank you anyway."

Ryan smiled. "Going back to Albuquerque?"

I nodded and Ryan looked at me curiously. "You okay?" he asked and I shook my head.

"I lost a necklace; it was an heirloom and when I return to Albuquerque next week my mother may kill me because of it," I explained. "And...just some other stuff."

"Ah," Ryan said, nodding in understanding. "Try not to stress about it too much. I know it sounds crazy, but parents have a way of understanding these kind of things. Your mom might get mad, but she'll get over it in time and especially since she hasn't seen you in so long, she may be more forgiving."

I shrugged. "I don't know. She didn't want me to come to New York anyways and I just feel like this is one more thing I'm doing to let her down."

"Hey," Ryan said softly. "You following your own path is not letting your mother down. It'll be fine."

I looked up at Ryan then, in his ripped jeans and bright pink H&M t-shirt, his floppy blonde hair falling into his blue eyes. He looked so happy, so optimistic, but I could see him peering into the room, glancing over Sharpay's side and something lurched in my heart.

"Hey, Ryan?" I said and swallowed, working up the courage to proceed with my words. "Remember how I told you that Sharpay performed a while ago?"

"Yeah," he said and at the mention of her name he frowned. "Why?"

"She's performing on Wednesday next week. At Jenny's." I looked him straight in the eye. "You should go."

He didn't say anything for a moment. "I don't know if that's the best idea..."

"You don't have to come," I said, biting my lip. I just wanted him to take the bait, but pressuring him wouldn't do me any good. "Just thought I'd suggest it."

He smiled weakly. "Thanks, Gabriella." He turned to walk down the hall, but paused. "Oh and by the way, the guy you're worried about? He'll come around."

And with that cryptic message, he was gone.

---

I sat on my bed, sulking to myself, imaging different scenarios that could transpire if I were to tell my mother about my losing the necklace. Maybe she wouldn't be furious that I had lost an heirloom that had meant so much to her? That had belonged to her mother? Maybe she'd understand.

Chances were she'd scream at me in Spanish, which usually happened when she was really upset with me. I imagined her visage growing steadily darker as strings of Spanish curse words would be thrown in my direction and I shuddered at the thought. She'd go on about how I should have never come to New York and had I been in sunny California at Stanford, where things like this just didn't happen, I would still have the necklace firmly around my neck.

One thing was for certain, however. If I were ever to get the courage to tell my mother that I lost said necklace, which I'd most likely have to considering Thanksgiving weekend was fast approaching, I would most definitely omit the part in which I lost it whilst breaking into my university's swimming pool. Late at night. With a boy.

A soft knock at the door ripped me out of my thoughts and I sprang off the bed, practically running to answer it, thankful for the distraction. Behind the door stood Troy with an anxious look on his face and a brown paper bag in his hand. He looked up at me and smiled nervously.

"Hey," I said quietly. "What's up?"

He shuffled his feet almost awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. "Um, can I come in for a minute."

I nodded, completely unsure of why he seemed so shy. "Sure," I responded, stepping outside to let him in the room.

"Okay," he began, sitting on the edge of my bed, his hands folded in his lap with the brown bag deposited on the space beside him. "I know you said it's not a huge deal, that it doesn't matter that you lost the necklace and that you chose to follow me blah blah blah, but," he paused. "I feel terrible. That necklace was an heirloom, Gabi and it must have meant a ton to you and your mother. And if I hadn't been all brooding and pulled you into my need for an escape, then you never would have lost it."

"Troy," I began, coming to sit next to him. "Seriously. Yesterday was one of the most fun nights of my life. I don't regret it at all. Sure it's a shame that I lost my necklace, but I'll move on. My mom will move on. It's not the end of the world."

He swallowed and averted his eyes, picking up the brown bag beside him. "I know that. Even still...I wanted to make it up to you." Reaching inside the bag he pulled out a small package wrapped in light pink paper with far too much scotch tape. He held it out to me. I stared down at it in response.

"I know it doesn't replace the one your grandmother gave you," he looked down at the package in his hands before looking up to meet my gaze. "But...I just...I feel better this way."

Trembling slightly, I took the package in my hands and felt it's smooth paper. I looked up at him hesitantly and back down at my hands. I shook my head.

"Troy, you don't have to do this," I insisted but he brought his hands and laid them on mine, pushing the package back towards me.

"Please," he said desperately, "I want to. Just open it."

His hands left mine, and shaking, I began to peel back the paper carefully, not wanting to tear it too eagerly. Once I had shed it of it's wrapping, I found myself holding a small white box. I swallowed before looking up at him again.

He nodded, smiling gently. "It's not going to bite you, Gabi," he joked and I smiled in-spite of myself, lifting the lid before emitting a tiny gasp at what was inside.

Settled on top of a bed of cotton was a delicate gold chain. My heart thudded in my chest wildly. I lifted it out of the box carefully and found a small pendant dangling from it. It was a gold horseshoe, barely a inch wide. It was beautiful crafted, with little details and the gold shimmered brightly. I realized then that this couldn't have been exactly cheap.

"Troy, I can't accept this," I said, still holding the necklace in my hands. "You don't need to spend money on me."

Troy inched closer to me on the bed. "No, Gabi, it wasn't that costly." His jaw tensed and his face flushed as he rubbed his neck. "When I left to go to the library earlier, I was really just wandering around, thinking of someway I could make it up to you. After everything you've done for me lately, I managed to get you to lose an heirloom. So I found this small, girly boutique and i just thought...hey, why not?"

He smiled shyly before continuing. "So of course I get inside and I realize I'm completely over my head. It was all...flowery and stuff and there was clothing and I didn't know what I was doing. Then a sales girl pulled me aside and I found these. She told me that each pendant had a meaning behind it. A horseshoe," he pointed to the necklace in my hands, "obviously signifies luck. Given the fact that you lost your other one, I figured you could use it. Besides, it's a sign that you make your own luck."

I clutched the necklace close to me, butterflies swooping in my stomach. "Troy, I--"

"It means something else, too," he ducked his head down, the blush strong and apparent on his cheeks. "It's a sign of protection. I just...I wanted you to know that I'm always here for you, Gabi. Just like you were for me. Always."

I felt tears prick my eyes and my heart melted into a puddle of goo. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me," I admitted, my heart soaring.

"Yeah, well," he smiled bashfully.

I blushed darkly. "Can you help me up it on?

He nodded and I handed him the necklace, turning around so he could clasp it. He came to sit behind me, his kneecap pressing into the small of my back. I felt his warm breath on my neck as he bent down and carefully laid the necklace to rest just below my collarbone, his warm hands brushing over the sensitive skin.

I turned around slowly once it was clasped and my hand came up to touch the pendant. When I turned, our faces were centimeters apart, our noses grazing.

"Thank you," I whispered and he nodded, his eyes darting from mine to my lips again just as they had at the pool. He inched forwards, as did I and I let my eyes slide close, waiting for the impact.

"Gabriella! Big news! Zeke and I are going on a date!"

The door flung open and Troy and I sprang apart. Twirling around the room was Sharpay, who seemed to be in a girlish frenzy. Troy jumped up off the bed, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

"Um, this seems like a girl talk," he said quickly, his face bright red. "I'll um, talk to later, Gabi?"

"Uh, yeah!" I said, my face just as crimson and my voice two octaves higher. "Thank you."

"It was the least I could do," he said, smiling quickly before going to the door. "Uh, bye Sharpay."

With that he was gone and Sharpay stilled in her movements, looking at me curiously.

I was frozen on the bed, replaying the moment that occurred seconds earlier in my head over and over again. The almost kiss by the pool was that...an almost kiss. What just happened was an almost kiss. Troy and I had had two almost kiss moments.

Troy wanted to kiss me.

"Wait, did I interrupt something?" Sharpay asked me, her eyes slightly wide.

I threw my pillow at her and groaned, laying on my bed. The cool metal from the necklace Troy had given me burned my skin and I smiled, elated.

Troy wanted to kiss me. But given our interruptions, would we ever get there?

---

So, okay, the necklace. There is a link to it in my profile if you'd like to see it and I wanna talk about it for a second because a lot of thought went into it (stop rolling your eyes, Jacqui). The necklace is by New York based designer Anna Sabino and the majority of her pendants have charms that have some kind of meaning behind them, which I find delightful. Also, the store Troy went into is called Privileged, which carries her jewelry in real life and is also a location very close to Goddard Hall, their residence building. So yes, lots of google mapping.

Also, why haven't they kissed yet? Well, let's look at some facts. Troy and Gabi went four years without being friends. It took them five chapters to become friends. They're not going to kiss that easily. :)

Lastly, the store I'm working at is opening a week earlier than expected, so I don't know if that means I will have more time to write or less considering we haven't even gotten into the store location to set up yet, but we'll see. I have a good chunk of free time next week so hopefully I'll get a few more chapters written up.


	15. Come With Me

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Fifteen: Come With Me  
_

---

"_Oh speak again, bright angel_? Seriously, Gabi, what is this dribble?"

I lowered my copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ and narrowed my eyes at Troy, who was sitting cross legged on the end of his bed. I was positioned on the other side, leaning against the wall; my knees drawn up to my chest. It was the Wednesday before we left for Thanksgiving and he and I were getting some last minute studying in that morning before we went to Sharpay and Zeke's performance at Jenny's later that night.

"It's _Romeo and Juliet_, Troy," I said pointedly. "It's considered the greatest love story of all time."

Troy set his own copy down, rather roughly. He rolled his eyes and continued. "But, Gabi, it's not a love story at all. It's a romance based on lust, infatuation and teenage hormones. It's a tragedy, not at all a love story."

"Troy," I said, stretching my legs out so they dangled over the side of the bed. "How can you read these words and not see the beauty in them? The passion behind them? The love etched into their syllables?"

He blinked at me. "Wow. That was pretty dramatic of you."

"And so is Shakespeare," I stated. I brought my copy closer to me and flipped through the dog eared pages, anxious to find a passage that conveyed my arguments. "_This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest come to thy heart as that within my breast!_"

Rolling his eyes again, Troy flipped through his book and found my page, taking the next line. "_O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?_" He said mockingly. He scrunched up his nose and I smiled slightly, taking in the adorable expression. "What an insatiable old fool."

I sighed aggravated. "Keep reading, Troy. He's hardly insatiable; he just wants to know that his feelings for Juliet aren't one-sided." I cleared my throat and read Juliet's next line aloud. "_What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?_"

"_Th' exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine_."

We fell into a steady rhythm, reading from the book. My cheeks reddened as we spoke the flowery, romantic words to each other, the air growing thicker in the room as a longing pulled in my stomach and I felt myself inching closer to him.

"_I gave thee mine before thou didst request it and yet I would it were to give it again_," I said softly.

Troy swallowed before moving closer to me. "_Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love_?"

Inching even closer to him so that his knee touched the outer edge of my thigh, I continued. "_But to be frank and give it thee again, and yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite_." I looked up at him and sighed, pressing the book to my chest. "How can you read that and not see the beauty?"

Glancing over at him, I was met with an odd expression, his eyes eyes heavy-lidded and scanning my face. I shivered under his gaze and he inched towards me, resting a hand on my arm.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice husky and deep. "How are you getting back to Albuquerque?"

I blinked, startled. "Um, train, I think," I said, licking my dry lips and swallowing. "Why?"

He took a deep breath before looking up to meet my gaze, his blue eyes locking into mine. "My mom went kind of overboard," he chuckled. "She wants me to rent a car and drive back tomorrow."

I arched an eyebrow. "Isn't that kind of expensive? With gas money and all? And it's an day long drive; you'll have to stop somewhere."

He nodded, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "That's what I said, but for some reason she believes that this will get me home both faster and one-hundred percent for sure. So, I don't know, but I was wondering..." he paused. "Any chance you want to drive back with me?"

The blood stilled in my veins and time suspended in the air. He wanted me to what? I could feel my fingers numbing and my skin burning under the touch of his fingertips. Did he seriously just ask me to drive all the way back home with him? "Like...a road trip?"

He shrugged, smiling slightly. "I don't know. Yeah, I guess. Sort of. I mean, you don't have to, but it'd be nice to have someone there to share the long silences with. Someone to talk to, so I don't go crazy."

I thought for a moment, weighing the pros and the cons. If I were to go with Troy, would it strengthen our friendship even more, or would it lead us into a direction that we weren't really ready for? Was I willing to take that chance?

"I don't know, Troy," I said honestly. "I mean, I don't want you paying for everything and I don't know if I can help to split the cost of everything."

"My mom's sending the money, Gabi," he said, his fingers tensing against my arm. "I'm not even paying for any of it."

"Still," I said, rationally. "There's so much to consider. I mean, we don't just jump into a car and drive off. I have to talk to my mom and I don't know how she feel about my traveling on my own."

"Gabi," Troy said, smiling shyly. "You don't have to decide right now. But it's an option and it's something for you to consider. You don't have to come, but I'd love your company and frankly, to me it makes no sense for us to travel separately considering we're ending up at the same destination."

I nodded slowly. "Okay, then," I said, shooting him an awkward smile. "I'll keep it in mind."

His smile grew slightly wider. "Okay."

The air between us had dissolved, the but thumping in my heart would not cease as I imagined sitting next to Troy for the an entire day. The thought was so thrilling, but so scary that I had to close my eyes.

Who would have thought?

---

"So then she calls me up, actually calls me on my cell phone while I'm on the subway ride home," Taylor says, agitatedly. "She then proceeds to yell at me for ten minutes, ten whole minutes, Gabriella, insisting that, no, she didn't slack off the whole project and leave me for dead, but she actually did work! What bull!"

I smiled weakly at Taylor as we waited for our drinks. "Group projects are the worst," I said sympathetically.

Taylor nodded and sighed. "You have no idea. It was brutal. I hate this girl and never want to see her again, but get this; she didn't even show up for our presentation today. I mean, after all of that, she has the nerve to not even show up." Our drinks arrived and we collected them, smiling gratefully at Jenny. "Not that I care that much; she's the one who got the zero."

I sat myself comfortably down in the large plush purple love-seat at Jenny's, holding a chai latte carefully in my hands. Taylor nestled herself down in the green armchair adjacent to it and I eyed her.

"Aren't you going to sit next to me?" I asked, gesturing to the empty seat. I placed my purse on the cushion, reserving the seat from the growing number of customers.

She smiled coyly and shook her head. "I think that seat should be occupied by someone else; someone taller with blue eyes and brown hair? Don't you agree?"

I flushed hotly and took a sip of my drink. "Shut up, Taylor," I said. Swallowing, I set my drink down on the coffee table in front of me. "Something interesting happened today, though."

"What?" Taylor asked, taking a sip of her own drink. "Did you guys have another almost-kiss-moment?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Both Taylor and Sharpay had not been able to let the almost-kisses Troy and I almost shared escape their memories and it was growing increasingly difficult to ignore the looks they'd shoot Troy and I when we were even within ten feet of each other.

"No," I said pointedly, shooting her a look. "He asked me to drive back to Albuquerque with him for Thanksgiving."

Taylor's eyebrows shot up in the air and she choked on her drink. Coughing, she stared at me with wild eyes. "You're going to," she coughed. "Right?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, there's a lot to consider, I don't know how my mom would feel about --"

"Gabriella," Taylor said, folding her arms across her chest. "You're an adult and your mom would deal. I mean, she handled it okay when you told her you lost the necklace, right?"

I raised my hand and touched the horseshoe pendant hanging around my neck, the metal burning my skin. "I haven't actually gotten around to mentioning that just yet," I admitted.

"Oh," Taylor backtracked. "It doesn't matter. You _have_ to go with Troy."

"But why?" I asked, almost whining. "It could just complicate things!"

"How?" She asked incredulously. "You guys are crazy for each other. If something's going to happen, it needs to happen!"

"Yeah, but Taylor," I said. "First of all, he's not crazy about me. I don't know how he feels. Secondly, I don't know if..." I trailed off, trying to find the words to articulate the jumbled mess in my head. "I don't know if I'm ready to fall head first into something like this."

Taylor furrowed her eyebrows. "Why not?"

"There's a lot...beneath the surface," I confessed. "I mean, Troy and I didn't know each other in high school, but..."

"Hey, Gabi! Taylor!" Troy's cheerful voice cut through my thoughts and I looked up at him, startled but thankful. I had been so close to divulging the truth about why I had come to New York, something I hadn't thought about in quite some time and when it came down to it, it's wasn't exactly the best situation to do so in.

"Hey, Troy," I said, smiling nervously, picking up my drink. "Take a seat," I moved my purse and patted the cushion gently.

"Aw, you saved a seat for me?" He asked, grinning widely. "You're the best, Gabi." He sat next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me to him for a brief moment. My latte sloshed over the sides slightly and it burned my skin, but it was nothing in comparison to the touch of his fingers.

Taylor hid her smirk behind her hand and I rolled my eyes. Troy squirmed next to me and eyed my latte.

"Can I have a sip?" he said, smiling cheekily.

"No way!" I said, drawing the mug closer to me. "Go buy your own! I saved for like, a week to have enough money to buy this!"

"Gabi!" He whined. "Just one little, teeny, tiny sip."

Sighing, I extended my mug to him and he took it in his own hands, our fingers brushing; a shock running through me. He took a large sip before handing it back to me, grinning brightly.

"Thank you, Gabi," he said cheerfully, squeezing my hand as he gave me back my beloved beverage. I glared at him, annoyed.

"That was not a sip, Troy, that was a gulp! That's the last time I..." I trailed off, my eyes fixed on something across the room. Ryan had just entered the cafe, something bulky in his hands, though I couldn't place what it was in the dim light.. My eyes doubled in size and I nudged Troy sharply in the ribs.

"Ow!" He hissed, retracting his arm. "What was that for?"

"Look!" I whispered, pointing inconspicuously to Ryan, who was looking awkwardly around the room. "Ryan's here! Ryan showed up! Oh, I'm so glad!"

Troy and Taylor exchanged a panicked glance. "How did you know he might show up?" Taylor asked slowly.

I blushed and played with a strand of my hair. "I may have invited him."

Taylor groaned and let her head loll back onto the back of the couch. "Oh, Gabi, you didn't."

My heart sunk. "Yes, I did, Taylor," I said, perturbed. "What is wrong with that?"

"Just that now Sharpay's going to kill you and I'm never going to see you again," Troy joked lightly. "We all know she's not going to be happy."

Biting the inside of my lip, I considered this. I had long ago debated whether or not impulsively inviting Ryan was the best thing to do and I concluded that it had been. Ryan and Sharpay were once, apparently, such a core unit and they obviously missed each other terribly. All they needed was a pushing start, for they were both far too stubborn to truly do it themselves. So I was stepping in this time and hopefully, with some luck they'd repair the broken mess that was their relationship.

"She might get mad," I said in agreement. I looked up at Ryan who was now awkwardly standing against the wall of the room. "But they need this, they really need this."

Troy's arm snaked around my shoulders again. "Still," he said, smiling slightly. "If Sharpay tries to kill you, don't expect me to jump in front to defend you."

Taylor raised her hand. "That goes double for me."

I smiled mockingly. "I'll keep that in mind."

The lights of the cafe dimmed further and Zeke stepped onto the stage, he and Sharpay the first ones to perform this night. He sat down at the stool situated at the front and rested his guitar on his thigh. Adjusting the microphone, he glanced out into the audience and smiled. Sharpay walked up slowly behind him, a timid smile on her face. Brushing her blonde bangs out of her eyes, she sat down on the stool next to his.

"How are you all doing tonight?" Zeke asked. The small crowd cheered and he grinned. "We're more than happy to be here tonight and we've got a new song we've been working on..."

As he spoke, Sharpay suddenly went rigid, her eyes wide and her face pale. I followed the path of her gaze and realized she had noticed Ryan. I swallowed and glanced at Troy.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," I said anxiously and Troy gave my shoulder a squeeze, his hand having never left my arm. "I should have stayed out of this."

"Gabi," he said, calmly. "It'll be okay."

I swallowed the large lump in my throat and nodded, trying to still my beating heart. I looked back to the stage and saw Sharpay had cupped the microphone in her hands and was speaking.

"Actually," she looked at Zeke, her face red and her eyes glassy. "I was thinking, if it's alright with Zeke, if we play a different song than we were planning."

Zeke looked at her confused, but nodded. She continued. "Okay then. This is an old song that we wrote over the summer," she paused, her breathing quickening. "But it's very near to my heart. It's called 'Scratch'."

A shocked look passed over Zeke's face before rolling off completely. He adjusted the tuning on his guitar as fast as he could before plucking out the opening notes.

Sharpay, in turn, closed her eyes and began to sing. "It's a big girl world now, full of big girl things and everyday I wish I was small."

"I've been counting on nothing," she sang, her voice raw and shaky, "but he keeps giving me his word. And I am tired of hearing myself speak. Do you get weary? Do you get weak? How do you dream when you can't fall asleep?"

She opened her eyes and looked out to the crowd, scanning it. Her eyes fell on Ryan and in the dark lightening, I saw him stiffen. "I'm so afraid of what'd you'd say."

She closed her eyes again and swallowed. "I'd like to know if you'd be open to starting over from scratch. I'd like to know if you'd be open to giving me a second chance."

The tears pooled in my eyes and I felt the shivers run down my arms. The song was about Ryan; that much was completely apparent. The distance she had forced between the two of, though by her own accord was still painful for her. I was her roommate. I saw things she didn't think I knew; but she never took down the pictures of her and Ryan, she only kept adding to the small collection on her mirror. I had seen the small flicker in her eye when she saw the refrigerator sitting in our dorm room, though she had spoken against it. Since I had met Sharpay, everything she said never matched up to her actions and I couldn't only hope that this would change it.

"I used to think I was special," she chuckled slightly into the mic. "And only I have proved me wrong."

Everything she had felt, everything that she had held in the last two years was coming to the surface in her song, in her words that she had so passionately sang. I glanced over at Ryan, whose head was down, a hand pressed to his temple. I frowned and felt my heart pick up speed.

"It's a big girl world now," she sang, her voice now cracking. "Full of big girl things and everyday I wish I was small."

With a final strum, the song ended and the crowd was quiet a moment before breaking into cheers and a stunning around of applause. The tears trickled down Sharpay's face before she smiled weakly and awkwardly before bounding off the stage, Zeke hot on her trail.

She walked through the parting crowd and over to where we sat, her face angry and red. I swallowed nervously and Troy's grip on my arm tightened.

"Gabriella!" She hissed sharply. "What were you thinking? Why did you invite him here? How could you do that!"

"Sharpay!" I protested. "I was just..."

"Trying to help, right?" She said, her voice still a whisper, but the fury seeping through. "It's not your place, Gabriella! I don't want to talk to him! I don't want to see him! I can't believe you invited him here!"

I opened my mouth to protest, but stopped when Troy opened his own. "Um, Sharpay?" he said softly and she glared fiercely at him.

"What?!" she snapped, folding her arms over her chest.

Troy smiled and pointed behind her. "Turn around."

My eyes darted behind Sharpay. Ryan stood there, looking bashful, a bouquet of bright pink roses in his hands. Sharpay turned to look at him slowly, her body stiff and rigid.

Ryan spoke first, his hands trembling as he extended the flowers to her. "You were amazing, Shar," he said, his voice genuine and kind. "I'm so, so proud of you; so proud to say your my sister."

Sharpay didn't say anything in reply, her eyes fixed on the roses in his hands and he cleared his throat nervously. "You don't have to say anything, we don't need to talk," he stammered. "Just know that I'm sorry for whatever happened between us and I'm always here and that your star shines brighter than mine ever did or ever would."

She looked up at him slowly, her bottom lip quivering as tears pooled out of her eyes and ran over the lids, covering her cheeks. "Pink roses," was all she said.

Ryan blinked, surprised. "W-what?"

"You remembered," she said, her voice shaking. "You always used to buy me pink roses after every show. You remembered."

In one shift movement, Sharpay stepped forward and threw her arms around Ryan's neck, the roses crumpling against his chest. He looked around, shocked before smiling softly to himself and wrapping his own arms around her.

"I've missed you, sis," he said and she cried against his shoulder, her body racking with sobs.

"I'm so, so sorry," she said through her tears.

Ryan shrugged. "It happens," he said, "Though you might want to apologize for giving away your fridge, since I rigged the lottery for you."

Sharpay pulled back, laughing. "That was all Gabriella," she said, giggling. She turned to me and our eyes locked and I saw Ryan turn to look at me, too.

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "All Gabriella."

---

Later that night, I stood in my dorm room alone; a small suitcase open on my bag as I prepared to pack up my belongings for the days I'd be spending in Albuquerque. Folding a sweater into my bag, I sat on the edge of my bed and considered my options.

I could travel by train; slow and dependable, what was expected of me. Or I could travel back with Troy, even slower and unpredictable.

If I were to go with Troy, what if we kissed? What if something progressed? Could I handle it? I touched my lips faintly, thinking of the two times we almost kissed; once in this very spot on my bed.

There was a knock at the door and I called that it was open, not caring who was coming to visit. Sharpay and Ryan had left an hour earlier, driving back to Philadelphia where their parents, ecstatic that their children were speaking again, were eagerly waiting. Sharpay had hugged me tightly, thanking me for intervening and I felt a swell of pride mixed into the comforting warmth from their reunion. Excitedly, she had grabbed her Louis Vuitton monogramed bags and ran out the door.

The door opened and I was only slightly surprised to see Troy step in, smiling shyly.

"Hey," he said softly, clicking the door shut behind him. He leant against the edge of my desk, his hands in his pockets and gestured to my suitcase. "Packing?"

I nodded. "I kind of left it to the last minute," I admitted and he smiled.

"Figures." He ducked his head down then and peered at me through his eyelashes almost shyly. "Gabriella," he said seriously, "What you did for Sharpay and Ryan...it was..."

"It was nothing," I said, waving my hand in the air. "All they needed was a little push.

Troy shook his head. "No, Gabi, it was remarkable. I've said it before, but I've never met anyone like you. Never met anyone who just...cares so much about so many people."

It was then that I knew. I knew it as the words fell from his lips, I knew it was the blush spread across his cheeks and I knew it as he scratched the back of his neck. I flipped the lid of my suitcase shut and stepped over to him to stand in front of him.

"Hey, Troy?" I said and he looked up at me, straightening.

"Yeah?"

"About what you asked earlier..." I fiddled with my fingers. "Let's do it. Let's drive back to Albuquerque together."

Troy's eyes instantly brightened a grin spread across his face. "Really?" he asked, excitedly like a child on Christmas.

I giggled at his reaction and nodded my head. "Yeah. Why not?"

"Yes!" Troy said, clapping his hands together. I raised an eyebrow at him and he blushed deeper. "I mean, awesome. You won't regret this, Gabi, I promise."

Swiftly, he bent down and kissed me quickly on the cheek, his lips warm and firm. Then he turned and opened the door. "I've gotta go finish packing. We'll leave at 7:30 tomorrow morning, okay?"

With that he darted out of the room and I pressed my hand to my cheek, feeling the place where his lips had touched my skin, a slow smile growing on my face.

This was going to be more than just interesting.

"_You and I both know....that if we were to drive across country, I mean...it would never be platonic. "_

_- Felicity Porter_

---

So, I wanted to update this sooner but then the site decided to DIE, so I left it a little longer. Once it finally came back, I just got home from work and was frigging exhausted, so I decided I'd just wait till today. :) I suck, I know.

We're getting in store next week to set up, so I have no idea what my schedule is going to be like. However, I have now acquired a free period at school (dropped my lame world issues course) and will spend most likely each of these periods writing. Like I am right now.

Okay, I'm going to fangirl and go all OMG over Z&V at the Oscars. Spectacular! Wonderful! Brilliant! Love it! They looked so good and the pictures we got were just wonderful. That boy is so crazy for that girl that he's ruined every chance of me ever really falling in love because I want someone to look at me like that.

Lastly, I've done some more revisions and am combining the chapter plans for chapters seventeen and eighteen, so the story will officially be twenty chapters in length.


	16. I Think It's the Sexual Tension

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Sixteen: I Think It's the Sexual Tension_

---

"This," I said slowly, my head dropping down to rest my chin in my hands, "Was a really stupid idea."

Beside me Troy nodded slowly, his eyes fixated in the same direction as mine. "Yeah."

I licked my lips, still not looking away from the road. "No, really. This is probably one of the stupidest things I've ever done. I kind of hate you right now."

Troy turned to me and glared. "Hey, don't blame me. This was my mom's idea."

I threw my hands up, aggravated. "Oh, it was your _mom's_ idea, wonderful, that makes it _so_ much better. I don't care. Why did I agree to this? Why did I think it would be a good idea to freaking drive half way across America to spend one week with our families? What was I thinking?!"

"Stop freaking out, Gabriella!" Troy said, gritting his teeth. "This was completely and totally not my fault."

"Look," the man seated next to me said, his hands gripping the steering wheel. "If you two kids could just shut up for two seconds we could get to the gas station and get your car filled faster."

I ignored him and folded my arms across my chest. "Well, to be honest with you here, sir, if Troy had bothered to maybe check to see if this crap rental car had it's oil changed before we left, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

"Oh, would you please stop blaming me for this?" Troy yelled. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just assumed that the rental company would take some semblance of responsibility for their rental cars? No? Great."

"No!" I snapped, shifting my body away from Troy's. "It _is_ your fault, Troy. You can't worm your way out of this."

Larry, the tow truck driver sighed. "Look, ma'am, maybe you should give your boyfriend the--"

"He's not my boyfriend!" I yelled at the same time Troy sharply told him to mind his own business.

Huffing, I turned to stare straight out the window, not able to look to the right because Troy sat there and I _hated_ him, so therefore, looking at him was out of the question. I had been so foolish, thinking that driving across country with Troy was going to be some great spectacular thing. Thus far, we had been driving for nine hours and still had at least a day of travel left and things were going far from smoothly. In a scene straight out from a movie, the hood of our car was enveloped in white smoke and we pulled over to the side of the road, panicked.

Which brought us to where we were currently, sitting beside Larry from '_Larry's Towing_' and bickering with one another.

"Did you kids really think it was a good idea to drive back home form New York?" Larry asked, smirking slightly. Troy leaned over me and glared.

"Hey, you know what, it was my mom's idea, so maybe you should take it up with her!" he snapped, folding his arms over his chest.

Larry laughed. "Your mom's idea? That was pretty illogical."

"You leave my mother out of this!"

"Troy!" I barked, jabbing him in the ribs with my elbow. "You're the one who brought up your mother so just sit down and shut up!" I turned to Larry, my patience lessening by the second. "Are we close to a gas station yet or what?"

"Almost there, ma'am," he said grinning. "Just a couple of blocks left."

"Can you maybe speed? I want to spend as little time as possible with him."

"No, ma'am, that's illegal. Now make up with your boyfriend and let's all sing a Taylor Swift song!" Larry said happily. "That's who you young kids are listening to these days, isn't it?"

---

"_And we're off!" Troy cheered excitedly beside me and I burst into giggles, leaning against the seat of the car. _

"_I can't even begin to believe that we're doing this," I said breathless, watching as we turned onto the highway to make our long journey. "I tend to say that a lot around you."_

_Troy turned to me, grinning. "And do you consider this a bad thing?"_

_I smiled coyly at him, playing with a strand of my hair, shrugging. "I don't know. Maybe. How do I know you're not planning on smuggling me off to Mexico instead of taking me home to Albuquerque like you promised?"_

_Gasping, Troy slapped the steering wheel with his hand. "Oh damn! You caught me!" He bit his lip and shook his head fearfully. "I guess now would be the appropriate time to lock the doors." He pressed down on the button that did so and a clicking noise could be heard throughout the car._

"_Oh no!" I brought my hands to my chest, widening my eyes. "What am I to do?"_

"_You," Troy glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, "Are to sit there and find decent car driving music. Here is my iPod. Now hook it up, pronto." He took one hand off the wheel and handed me the slim black player. I cradled it in my hands and connected it using the proper wires._

"_My mom was a little weary when I told her I was traveling by car home."_

_Raising an eyebrow, Troy watched as I spun the wheel of his iPod. "A little? And don't spin it too fast, I don't want it to freeze. It's gotten kind of ghetto in it's years."_

_Rolling my eyes, I skipped through the songs. "Okay, a lot," I replied, skipping through the endless titles starting with 'S'. "You're driving? Are you crazy? You'll get here in twice the amount of time! What about the environment? And so on and so forth."_

"_Ah," Troy laughed slightly. "And yet here is my mom encouraging us to go. Quite the odd predicament."_

_I nodded absentmindedly. "You have a lot of weird music on this thing, Troy." I finished skipping through his artists which included everything from The Maine to City and Colour to No Doubt. I clicked on the 'playlist' option and began searching through it. _

"_Hey now," Troy said, "Don't be knocking my music. It's better than that acoustic stuff you always listen to."_

"_Pretty sure there's a lot of acoustic on here, Troy," I quipped as I scanned the playlist titles. Things like 'Songs for the Weekend' and 'Running Music' littered the screen and I tried to find something that read something along the lines of 'Music to listen to while driving across the country.' It didn't exist, but one playlist with a single word caught my eye instead._

_It had only five songs on the whole mix and I read the titles. 'Trouble', 'Bonnie and Clyde', 'In a Mirror', 'I'd Rather Be With You' and 'Covered in Rain'. I swallowed and my heart thumped in my chest. _

'_Gabriella' was the name of the playlist._

_I looked at Troy furtively out of the corner of my eye, my hands shaking slightly as I pressed the centre button down on the first song._

"_**I'm in trouble, I'm an addict, I'm addicted to this girl," **__The voice sang while along with the soft accompanying ukulele. "__**She's got my heart tied in a knot and my stomach in a whirl. But even worse i can't stop calling her, she's all I want and more. I mean, damn...what's not to adore?**__"_

_Troy stiffened and looked at me panicked. "You don't want to listen to this junk, do you?"_

_I pulled the iPod closer to me. "I wanna hear it," I said, my face bright red._

_Troy withdrew slightly, his stance still rigid and he swallowed, his own cheeks growing red. "Gabi, really--"_

"_Troy," I said firmly. "Please let me hear it."_

_He nodded slowly, reluctantly and I listened to the lyrics that continued to spill from the speakers._

"_**I'm running my mouth just like I got her, but I surely don't. Because she's so rock and roll and out of my league. Is she out of my league? Let's hope not.**__"_

_---_

"I'm Paul and I'll be your mechanic today," A tall man with dark hair in a oil covered blue jumpsuit said. I looked up from the three month old gossip magazine I was reading. Troy and I were seated on opposite sites of the bench at the garage, keeping as much space between us as possible. Troy was slouching, his legs bouncing up and down and his arms folded. He straightened when the man came out and stood.

"Hi, I'm Troy, this is Gabriella," he gestured towards me and I glanced back down at my magazine.

Paul looked at Troy, confused. "Um, hi, Gabriella." He turned back to Troy. "So; you didn't check the oil level in your car."

"Which would be his fault," I said, my voice saccharine sweet.

Raising an eyebrow, Paul looked at Troy who clenched his jaw and stared at me. "It's not my fault, Gabriella."

"He's an idiot," I said brightly, with a grin, looking back down at my magazine and flipping a page.

"She's not talking to me," Troy said with a sigh and Paul clamped him on the shoulder.

"Ah, I understand, son," He said with a chuckle. "A fight with the misses is never a fun thing."

"It's not, ah, um," Troy rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, um, something like that."

"Well, follow me and we'll get you on your way faster than you can say Taylor Swift. That's who all you young kids like now a days, right?"

As Paul lead Troy away, I walked up to the receptionist's desk. Placing my hands delicately on the greasy surface, I peered at the woman with short auburn hair.

"Hi," I said sweetly and she looked up, startled, as if she had not been expected to have to do work. "Maybe I use your phone?"

Her eyes turned to slits. "We don't condone that," she said, turning back to stare at the computer screen.

"Please," I begged. "I just need to call my mom."

She shook her head again and I sighed. "Please, Ms..." I glanced at the name plate on her desk, "Ms. Costa. Do you have children?"

"No," she said, clicking her mouse. From where I stood, I could see that she was only playing solitaire and my nerves were running short.

"Look," I said, frustrated. "I'm out of minutes on my phone, I'm stranded here before Thanksgiving weekend because my friend never checked the freaking oil on the stupid rental car he got. So I really need to call my mom and explain all this to her before she dies because she thinks I'm dead!"

"Gina, just let the poor girl use the phone!" Paul's deep voice called from across the garage. She rolled her eyes and gestured towards the white phone, annoyed. Picking up the receiver, I dialed my number and waited for the machine to pick up, my mom probably still at work.

"Hey mom," I said as the voicemail recorded. "We've had a minor setback. Um, we'll try to get there as soon as possible, but I can't guarantee anything." I paused. "I might check out the train schedule and if I do, I'll give you another call. Love you. Bye."

Turning around slowly, I saw Troy standing there, his hands in his pockets. "Car's ready," he said, not meeting my eyes.

I nodded. "That was quick." We wandered over to where Paul stood, stationed by the stupid hunk of metal itself.

"There we go," Paul said, clicking the hood of the car shut and patting it gently. "All fixed up. But son," he said, cocking his head towards Troy, "Next time, you be careful and make sure that everything is in proper working condition before you go on a trip cross country."

Troy nodded eagerly, his face flushing slightly. "Yeah. It was stupid of me."

Paul chuckled and smiled. "Don't worry about it son. You should just be careful, especially since you're traveling with such precious cargo." He winked at Troy and gestured towards me. "Clearly your girlfriend isn't too pleased with you."

I opened my mouth to retort, "Oh, I'm--"

"You have no idea," Troy said, snaking his arm around my waist and smiling. "She won't talk to me now, but I'm probably going to be hearing about this for days."

My head shot to the side and I looked at Troy, shocked and curious. "What?"

"Babe," he said smoothly, nuzzling his nose into my hair and wrapping another arm around my waist, pulling me closer. "Please, I'm sorry. Let's just get going and you can yell at me later, okay?"

I blushed hotly at his choice of words and squirmed under his grasp slightly. "Um, okay," I said, swallowing and playing along. "We'll talk about it later."

Troy smiled widely. "That's my girl," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead before grasping my hand and pulling me towards the car. "Thanks again, Paul."

Nodding, Paul smiled and waved his goodbye. "You two kids take care now, you hear?"

With that we slipped into the confines of the car and a steady silence fell in between us as we pulled away. I bounced my leg up and down anxiously, feeling stressed, but most of all wondering what Troy had meant by allowing Paul to believe that we were a couple.

"Okay," I turned to him, glaring, unable to take it anymore. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Troy asked, navigating the empty road. I stared at him blankly for a moment, my mouth open before rolling my eyes and throwing my head back in aggravation.

"Oh, please," I scoffed. "You're kidding me._ That_, Troy, _that_!"

He gritted his teeth. "You're going to need to be more specific."

"I'm pretty sure you called me _babe_, Troy," I folded my arms across my chest. "Last time I checked, you didn't call me babe."

Troy glanced at me from the corner of his eyes and shallowed, his hands gripping the wheel. "It's not that big of a deal, Gabriella," he said, his voice low. "People just...keep saying it lately and I figured instead of going through the motions of, o_h my god, we're not a couple, explanation point _that you seem so fond of, that I'd just go with it. Mess around a little bit."

I scoffed again. "I'm sorry, what?" My eyes turned to slits. "We aren't involved, Troy. Pretending that we are is just dishonest."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic." He kept his eyes fixed on the road in front of him. "And did it ever make you wonder, Gabriella, why people keep assuming we're a couple?"

I choked on nothing and coughed slightly before clearing my throat, my face hot. "No."

"You've never wondered why Sharpay has called me your boyfriend since day one?"

"No!" I insisted. "She's just a bitch; she's just like that. She enjoys messing with us."

"Fine!" He said loudly. "You go ahead and keep thinking that and we'll continue to go nowhere."

"Stop the car," I said suddenly, gripping the car handle. Troy looked at me, startled.

"What?" He asked, his voice deep and angry.

"Stop the fucking car, Troy!" I snapped and he pulled to the side of the road. I threw the car down open and stormed out, kicking at the grass. Hearing the sound of the car door slam, I turned to see Troy getting out of the car as well. He was walking towards me angrily and I let out an aggravated scream, pressing my hands to my face.

This was just perfect.

---

"_Whoa!" I said, clutching the seat of the car. "Do you wanna slow down or are you practicing for Nascar?"_

_Troy laughed beside me as the Born Ruffians played on. We had been listening to the playlist on a loop for the last hour and the blush was finally fading from Troy's cheeks. I, however, was having a harder time letting it go._

_He had a playlist named after me. With songs about romance and pretty girls on it. While I tried to find reasons that could change my first assumption, I knew it was impossible. These songs reminded him of __**me**__. He didn't have to say anything, but I knew it the moment he looked at me after I hit play._

_I suddenly felt that much more excited about this trip. Troy had feelings for me, romantic feelings and now we had over twenty hours left to discover and explore that notion. Hearing the sweet lyrics fill the air, I wanted to memorize them, each and every single one of them. But it was too difficult trying to hear them over the sweet trill of his laugh._

"_Does anyone really even watch Nascar?" Troy asked, smirking widely. He looked at me over the rim of his aviator sunglasses. "I mean, anyone can drive a car really fast."_

"_My dad used to watch it," I said suddenly and brought a hand to cover my mouth, feeling suddenly shy._

_The silence filled the air between us and I shifted uncomfortably, preparing for the next question._

"_You never talk about your dad much," Troy said softly, carefully; as if walking on eggshells. "Why is that?"_

_I shrugged and looked out the window, tracing lines on the pane of glass. "He passed away when I was thirteen."_

_Troy didn't say anything for a moment. "I'm sorry."_

"_It's okay. He was sick for a really long time," I said, recalling the years leading up to his death. "Lung cancer. Smoked like a chimney."_

_When Troy still didn't respond I felt compelled to keep going. "I always knew it was going to kill him. I just didn't expect it to happen so soon. And holidays...holidays make it that much harder."_

"_I can imagine," Troy said, his tongue darting out to wet his lips._

"_He used to be really big on family. The entire Montez clan stretches out all over America and even Mexico, but my dad; he worked really hard at making sure we always came together for events like this. Without him," I swallowed, "Things just sort of fell apart. My mom and I usually get take out and watch Titanic or something on Thanksgiving now."_

"_Sounds like a solid tradition." I looked at Troy and he was smiling softly. He drew one hand off the wheel and grasped my own, squeezing tightly. I took comfort in the soft feel of his hands and looked out the window, the bright sunlight blinding me. I let out a heavy sigh, imaging my father smiling at me as the soft music filtered through the air and Troy's thumb rubbed the skin of my hand gently._

"_**Put your tiny hands in mine, cause you're the brightest thing I've got.**__"_

---

"What the hell is your problem, Gabriella?" he hissed, grabbing me by the shoulders.

"Just leave me here!" I shouted irrationally. "I'll take the train the rest of the way!"

"And how are you going to get there?" he asked, his shoulders slumping slightly, his hands dropping from my arms.

"I'll hitchhike!"

"No, I'm not leaving you for dead on the side of the road, Gabriella!" He withdrew his arms from me and leaned against the car, running a hand through his hair. "Dammit."

I felt guilty, something lurching in my stomach. "Troy--" I began, but he raised his hand to cut me off.

"I had all these...ideas," he said quietly. "Of what this was going to be. Of what it was going to mean for...for us. And then I went and fucked it up over something so simple." He looked up and met my eyes. "If you really want to take the train, fine, but please, let me drive you to a train station."

I didn't say anything and looked at my surroundings. We appeared to be in the middle of no where and night was falling soon. I sighed and walked over to the car where Troy stood.

"Move," I said and he complied, moving out of the way so the car door was accessible. I opened it and sat back inside the car and rolled down the window, poking my head out.

"What are you doing?" he asked, leaning over to see me.

"Let's get going," I said. "We still have a long way to go to Albuquerque and we should probably stop somewhere for the night."

He nodded and slipped into the car beside me. Turning the key in the engine, it roared to life and music filled the gaps we had created through our silence.

"_In a mirror, I can see her, walking sideways, walking my way. Keeping time on her thigh; think she's mine, but I'm still high_."

---

"_Seriously, I went to go see him to get my paper that I did semi-decent on to show my parents," Troy was saying as I laughed hysterically next to him, "And his desk has these huge stacks of paper, I mean, epically huge and he just randomly pulls at one and the first paper in his hands is mine. He's a magician."_

_I covered my mouth with my hand, twisting in my seat as I laughed. "He did not. No one is that...I don't even know."_

"_Gabi, I swear," Troy insisted, grinning. "The man is eccentric, but brilliant. His wife wanted a sewing room, so he built her one -- with a door that only led into the room, not out."_

_I furrowed my brows in confusion. "So the door..."_

"_Lead to the outside of his house, not the inside." Troy shook his head. "Love was not meant for him."_

"_Love can't be meant for a lot of people," I said, looking over the rim of Troy's sunglasses which I had stolen the hour before._

"_Yeah," his eyes darted to the side. "You wanna give me my sunglasses back?"_

"_Nah," I said, sticking out my tongue. "They look so much better on me."_

"_Have to agree with you there," he said with a cheeky smile. "But want to maybe change the playlist?" His cheeks reddened._

"_Not just yet."_

"_**What am I to do? I go on being pretending to be friends just to be close to you. What do you mean when you say, you get me that way? You get me that way, too.**__"_

_Suddenly, I glanced out the dashboard window and saw a stream of white smoke filtering up through hood of the car. I sat up, panicked. _

"_Troy, what is that?" _

_His eyes were wide and the smoke got thicker. "I don't know."_

_Pulling to the side of the road, I felt my heart rate increase. This was something I hadn't expected._

_---_

"Home sweet home," Troy said as we stepped into the room of the motel we stopped at, over five hundred miles and fifteen hours left in our trip.

I turned and smiled at Troy. "Not quite," I said, surveying the room. My heart jumped into my throat. "Oh. There's a problem."

Troy closed the door behind him and dropped our bags by the door, coming to stand beside me. "Oh. Yeah. That's...that's, uh, that's a problem."

In front of us in the middle of the small room was a singular double bed. Troy and I exchanged an awkward glance and I cleared my throat. "You can take it. You're paying for this, after all."

Troy shook his head. "No. It's been a long hard day and I'm not letting you sleep on the floor. You take it."

"Troy, no," I protested. "It's not fair. You take it."

"Gabi, no," he pushed me towards the bed. "I refuse."

"Okay," I sighed and sat down on the edge. "Only if you sleep in it, too."

Troy flushed violently. "What?"  "There's plenty of space," I said, ducking my head to hide my blush. "Plenty of room for the both of us. There's no reason why one of us should sleep on the floor."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Troy looked down at the ground. "I'm okay with it if you're okay with it."

"I'm okay with it." I yawned then. "But let's seriously get some sleep. I don't know if I'll be able to survive tomorrow if we don't. Now I'm going to change, so turn around."

He did so and I rummaged through my bag for my pajamas. Locating them, I saw he was doing the same.

"No peaking," I said, turning around and slipping out of my shirt carefully. Troy chuckled behind me.

"I've seen you in your underwear, you know, Gabi," he teased and I turned scarlet, my movements stilling, my shirt still on my body.

"Okay, that's it, I'm going into the bathroom!" I exclaimed, scooping my stuff up and jogging towards the door. Troy laughed hysterically. "And I thought you said you didn't really look!"

"I didn't!" He protested. I could hear footsteps on the other side of the door come closer and then come to a stop outside the bathroom door. Opening it, I found Troy leaning against the wall, dressed in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants.

"Sure, that's what you want me to think," I said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

He smiled shyly. "I'm sorry," he said, looking me in the eye. "About earlier. I didn't even...I wasn't think and I'm sorry for fighting with you."

I shook my head. "No, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault at all. I was just stressed and took it out on you." I sighed. "I haven't...I haven't ever done anything like this."

Troy stepped towards me and pulled me into his arms. I relaxed easily, resting my head against his shoulder. "Me neither," he said, whispering in my hair. "Now let's go to bed."

I blushed wildly and he dragged me over by the hand. Slipping underneath the covers, I rolled over so my back was to Troy, making sure there was a large space of mattress between us. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw he had done the same.

Clicking off the light, Troy turned and said goodnight over his shoulder. I did the same, allowing my eyes to close before I realized a soft melody was stuff in my head.

"Hey, Troy," I said carefully, smiling to myself. "Why do you have a playlist named after me?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, before yawning loudly. "Just...go to sleep, Gabi. Now go to sleep."

Without another word, I snuggled deeper into the pillow, enjoying his veiled confession, excited for what tomorrow would bring.

"_So if you ever curious as to whether Felicity has the hots for you, just check her boom box."_

_- Megan Rotundi_

---

Fourteen years later, I finished this. I'm not going to lie, it took far much more than I anticipated to get this chapter completed and I have to thank music for that again. The songs on Troy's Gabriella playlist are:

Trouble by Never Shout Never

Bonnie and Clyde by Big Japan

In a Mirror by Born Ruffians

I'd Rather Be With You by Joshua Radin

Covered in Rain by John Mayer

I actually have the majority of the next chapter typed out and it's lengthy as well as lots of fun. We're coming to the end of this story and I'm excited, nervous and sad all at once. :)

Out of curiosity, and I've mentioned this to a couple of reviewers, but I actually have little scenes of the story written from Troy's perspective. Not full scenes, just little pieces. If I were to host them on my LJ (I don't want to pull a Stephenie Meyer and publish a whole new fic of his perspective) would anyone be interested in reading them? They'd be posted once the story is finished, after all, but yeah. :)

Also, the song Sharpay sang last chapter was 'Scratch' by Kendall Payne. :)


	17. I Have Wanted to Do That for a Long Time

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Seventeen: I've Wanted to do That for a Long Time_

---

I woke up the next morning feeling more than content with the world; with everything. It was the best sleep I had had in months, despite the fact that it was probably only five hours long, but I felt warm and safe. Snuggling closer to the warm body next to mine, I sighed happily.

Wait. Warm body next to mine?

My eyes shot open and I looked up, I was startled to find my head tucked underneath Troy's chin. Squirming slightly, I inched up the bed until I could see his face. His eyes were closed and his breathing soft and steady, his breath fanning onto my skin. I was curled up beside him, one hand resting on his chest and the other snaked around his waist. He had one hand wrapped around my own waist, his palm on my lower back. I shifted my legs slightly and blushed crimson. Our legs were entwined with one another's, my shin and knee captured between two of his.

Okay. Breathe, Gabriella, breathe.

It was quite a precarious situation and I had no idea what to do. We had never been this close to one another before, at least, not for such prolonged periods of time. Should I wake him up? Should I pretend to be asleep? What should I do?

How did we even get in this...position? When I fell asleep, my back was to him, as his was to mine and we were on opposite sides of the bed. Somewhere during the five or so hours we had slept, we had migrated towards each other.

Just when I was debating whether to fall back asleep or wake him up, Troy's eye lids cracked open and he blinked twice, his eyes adjusting to the light. When they finally focused, he noticed me beside him and his hand tightened around my waist, pulling me even closer, though I didn't even think it possible.

"Hey," he said softly, his fingers trailing up and down my back lightly. I shivered under his touch.

"Hey," I said, just as quietly. His eyes searched my face and I stared back at him. He swallowed.

Suddenly, as if completely aware of what was happening, we sprang apart. Detangling ourselves turned out to be rather difficult and limbs flew everywhere.

"Sorry, um," Troy awkwardly began. "I um--"

"Yeah, me too," I said, sitting up and covering my arms over my chest, my face hot. "I, um, don't know how that happened, I mean--"

"Yeah, when I went to sleep you were there and I was here and um..."

"Yeah," I looked down, "Sorry."

"Right, sorry," Troy said clearing this throat. "This was um, probably a bad idea."

I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, um, we really didn't think this through."

"Yeah, I mean, but I was just so tired and I..."

"Yeah, me too." I looked up and met his eye. "Good morning."

He smiled awkwardly. "Good morning."

"Okay, so, um, I'm going to go get ready now," I said suddenly, jumping off the bed and running into the bathroom. Closing the door quickly behind me, I shut the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily.

Wow, wow, wow. Did that just happen? My heart was thumping in my chest as I tried to still my breathing. Bringing my hands to my face, I felt hot and flustered. We were so, so close. How did that even happen? Oh, I should have thought this through.

Looking back, it seemed logical; sharing the same bed. But Troy and I had done nothing more than hug and hold hands; it was two steps ahead of where we were in our...relationship. As I tried to even out my breathing, a knock on the door threw me off.

"Gabi," Troy soft voice came. "You okay? We should probably leave within the hour."

Swallowing, I called back to him. "Yeah. I'll be out in ten minutes."

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I gathered my long strands of hair and pulled them into a messy ponytail using the hair tie on my wrist before splashing water on my face, trying to cool down and get a grip.

---

Pulling up to the drive outside of my ivy covered house, I felt a small thrill pass through me. I was _here_. I was _home_; back in Albuquerque. Looking around at the tall trees surrounding my house, the white door and the large balcony by my old room, I felt the nostalgia of growing up here and fear crept into my veins as I realized I had barely spoken to my mom since going to New York. The last time we really had a decent conversation, she wasn't too pleased with me about my decision to give up Stanford. Would things still be the same?

Shoving the thoughts out to the back of my head, I turned to Troy and grinned. "I can't believe we made it," I said softly and he turned to look at me, smiling back.

"Yeah, me neither," he laughed. "It was touch and go for a while there."

I laughed along with him and opened the door to the car, stepping out. Troy stepped out after me and opened the trunk for me, pulling out my bags.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," I said, waving him off and slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"I don't mind," he protested meekly, but I shook my head.

"Really, Troy, it's okay," I said, smiling brightly. "You've done far too much for me already. Thank you."

Troy rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled nervously. "Seriously, it was no big deal."

I looked up at my house and sighed. "Guess I'd better face the music someday," I said, smirking. "I'll see you when we get back to school, Troy."

"Actually," He shuffled awkwardly and leaned against the trunk of his car, looking down. "I've been doing some thinking."

I stared at him, confused and adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder. "Did you hurt yourself whilst doing so?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Ha ha, what are we in third grade?" he flushed again. "No, I was um, you said it wasn't a big deal for you and your mom? Right? I mean, Thanksgiving, right?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. Why?"

He scratched the back of his neck, something he had been doing so much over the last two days that I was certain that it was raw. "Well, it's a _huge_ deal at my house. Like, crazy insane. My mom goes all out and it's just generally a huge production, friends and family alike." He gulped and looked up at me nervously. "Do you any chance want to maybe come? Dinner's tonight."

I blinked, surprised. "Um, I--"

"I mean, you don't have to!" Troy said, suddenly, waving his hands in front of me. "But I thought I'd just extend the invitation to you..and uh, I kind of don't want to wait till we get back to New York to see you again and this was the first thing that came to mind and I--"

"Troy," I said, breaking him out of his ramblings. I smiled. "I'd love to come. Let me just talk to my mother about it, okay?"

He grinned brightly. "Really? Okay, um, awesome. Text me later then and let me know what's up."

"Okay," I said, smiling. "I will."

I turned on my heel and stepped up the walkway to my house. Swallowing, I heard Troy beep the horn twice and waved as he pulled away, before taking a deep breath and stepping inside the doors of my house.

The warm smell of the vanilla candles that my mother was so fond of hit my nose and I felt comforted and nervous all at the same time. The house looked exactly the same as it had when I left four months earlier. It still had it's dark hardwood floors, it's olive green walls and dark blue carpeting going up and down the staircase. Picture frames still covered every inch of free space, depicting my mom and I's life together. I swallowed hard, hearing the whir of the vacuum from the other room. Setting my bags down, I slipped off my shoes with shaking hands and tried to calm down, the anticipation of seeing my mother for the first time in months nearly killing me.

She hadn't been thrilled when I had told her of my plans to travel across country with Troy, as a matter of fact, it had been a bit of an understatement. But I had pulled the 'I'm an adult and can do what I want' card which was childish, but justified. Sort of.

Not to mention I left out the key element that I would be traveling with a male companion by myself that I was romantically interested in. As far as she knew, he was simply a really, _really_ good friend, one whom I would _never_ consider dating. I don't necessarily think she really bought it, it worked nevertheless.

Walking into the living room, I saw my mother there; her long dark hair swept up into a ponytail and working the vacuum on the rug rapidly. I leaned against the alcove, waiting for her to acknowledge me and smiling nervously.

She looked up, as if sensing my presence and jumped, startled. Switching off the vacuum, she stood there and cracked her own weak smile. "Gabriella," she said softly. "Welcome home."

"Hi, mom," I said carefully, fiddling with my fingers. "Thank you."

We said nothing for a moment before my mother made her way over to me in three quick steps. The next thing I knew I was crushed against her, her arms tight and unrelenting on my shoulders. I grasped her back just as fiercely, never so happy to be near her in my life.

"Oh, baby," she said into my hair. "Welcome home. I've missed you so, _so_ much. I'm so glad you're here and not lying across the pavement."

I laughed in her arms slightly. "Mom, I told you I'd be fine."

She pulled back and lead me over to the couch. "But how was I to know that, baby? You called me up the day before you're expected to leave and announce that you'll be driving across the country to come see me. I was a tense mess these past two days! This is the third time I've vacuumed this room -- today!"

I said down on the comfortable white couch that I had spent so many days doing homework on and sighed, feeling glad to be home. It felt a little alien; it was quiet here in Albuquerque aside from the chirping of birds or the sound of a few cars passing by, nothing like the sirens, traffic and hustle and bustle of New York. But it was home and regardless, I was glad to be there.

"I told you I'd be fine, mom," I assured her. "Troy, the boy I was traveling with is a good driver. He knows what he's doing and it was fun, despite minor setbacks."

My mother raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to lie to you, Gabriella, when you called me to tell me that you had had a minor setback, I assumed you crashed the car. What really happened?"

"Um, we didn't check the oil level," I bit my lip. "The car overheated."

My mother threw her hands up and rolled her eyes. "See! See what I mean? You let two young adults on the open road and they don't even check the oil level in the car! What was this boy's name again?"

"Troy," I said, a soft smile playing on my lips. "We've gotten quite close these past few months. He's a great friend."

My mother looked at me strangely. "Come with me, baby. I've made some tea."

I followed my mother into the large kitchen and sighed at the scent of warm cookies baking, just like I was a kid. "You didn't have to bake, mom."

My mother waved her hand in the air. "I wanted, too. It's not everyday your daughter comes home from university."

I smiled. "Just like when I came home after school, like daddy used to make."

My mother nodded. "Yes. Just like your father. Now, tell me about New York," she said, pulling a couple of mugs down from the cupboard. "Your e-mails and phone calls hardly paint a vivid picture. And speaking of pictures, I know so little about the people that are in the pictures on your Facebook."

I grinned, thinking of the life I had made in New York. "It's amazing mom," I breathed. "It's so big and everywhere I look, there's something new to explore, something new to do."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," I said, accepting the warm mug she handed to me. "When I first got there, I thought there was no way I can survive. I mean, my entire life I've been in a fishbowl and then I was in an ocean? Not going to happen." I took a sip of the drink. "But it got easier and now I can't imagine life without it."

"What about your friends?" My mother asked, taking a seat across from me at the island in the kitchen. "I've seen the pictures. Which one is Troy?"

"Um," I began, a blush pooling on my cheeks. "The one with the shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. He's tall, wears a lot of plaid." She nodded and waved her hand for me to continue. "The blonde's Sharpay, and my roommate. Then there's Taylor and Zeke; they're awesome as well."

I smiled fondly, leaning back in my chair, laughing to myself. "Sharpay can be temperamental, but she's pretty great, too. Amazing singing voice; she and Zeke often perform at the little cafe I was telling you about, Jenny's? The owner there is great as well. And Taylor is basically my other half; she wants to be a doctor, too."

"Sounds like you've created quite the life for yourself over there," My mother said, tracing the rim of her mug with her finger. "I'm so...I'm so proud of you, Gabriella."

I stared at her, taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"The last time you were sitting in this kitchen, you were at this table, your head lying down on the surface and just staring straight ahead. There was nothing to you, no life in your eyes. Ever since your father died, I'd wonder how you'd cope...how you'd accept that he was gone. And it was like the life just got sucked right out of you."

I didn't say anything, feeling stiff and uncomfortable. My mother was right. The day before I left for New York, I had laid my head on the island's surface and closed my eyes, dreaming that I was somewhere else as my mother prepared my breakfast.

"And yet here you are," my mother said, her voice cracking, "Four months later and you're _full_ of life. You've got all these big city stories to tell and all these friends I know nothing about, but I know you're_ happy_. You're traveling across countries with boys. You're being spontaneous and you're _laughing_." She looked up at me and I was startled to see the tears in her eyes.

"I didn't want you to go to New York. I read every parenting website out there that dealt with things like this, but I knew I had to let you go," she paused as a few tears slipped past her eyes. "I wanted you here forever, I wanted to know where you'd be, that I had played a part in your future even after you were gone. Going to Stanford cemented that. It gave me the comfort of knowing that we chose it together. Going to New York ripped all that away for me. It was hard, but, looking at you right now...it was worth it."

"You've grown up so much, Gabriella. You've gotten so much stronger and I should have known that you were only going to do so when you stood up to speak at that podium at your graduation. I'm so proud of you, Gabriella," she said, pressing her hand into my mine. "Your father would be, no, is so proud of you."

I clutched my mother's hand and felt tears spring to my own eyes. "Thank you, mom," I said softly, feeling my heart soar. My mother didn't hate me. She supported me. I never felt better in my life, never felt so light.

"Let's change the topic," my mother said, wiping at her tears. "Where'd you get that necklace?" she asked, reaching out to feel the pendant in her hands. "It's lovely."

I swallowed and blushed. "Um, no. A friend bought it for me."

She raised her eyebrows. "A friend? What friend?"

"Um, Troy."

My mother didn't say anything for a second, before smiling coyly at me. "Wait, you don't mean Troy Bolton? The boy you went to high school with? The star of the basketball team? The boy you had a ridiculous crush on for four years?"

I turned to her, shocked. How could she have possibly known? How did she possibly know that I had loved Troy even then? I hadn't told her anything! "What? How did you know?" I paused. "I mean, why would you even assume that they were the same person?"

"I'm your mother, sweetie," she said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Of course I knew. You spent every Friday evening combing the local newspapers for his picture. It didn't take long for me to figure it out. The way you're talking about him...you have the same look on your face as you did when you used to look at his pictures."

I blushed hotly and covered my face. "Oh. _Oh_, I feel so...so _stupid_."

My mother tutted beside me. "Oh, don't be that way, Gabriella. You can't help how you feel and honestly, if I were not your mother, I doubt I would have picked up on it. Besides, I think he must be rather fond of you himself."

My head shot up. "What do you mean?"

She pointed to the necklace. "Boys don't just buy girls jewelry, honey. It's a calculated thing; it means something." She winked. "Now, what did you want to do for dinner? I was thinking Thai food."

I licked my lips and rang my hands together. "Actually, mom, ironically, Troy invited you and I to go for dinner at his place." I smiled at the memory. "It's apparently a big deal. But I understand if you don't feel like going...it could be kind of awkward."

"I'd love to go," my mom smiled happily. "Lucille Bolton is an absolutely wonderful cook."

"What?" I stood up. My mother just kept throwing curve balls at me. Apparently, I was not the only one who changed these past four months.

She smiled like a cheshire cat. "She and I are in the same book club. It's lonely here without you, you know that. I got a few hobbies."

I raised an eyebrow. "Hobbies?"

"I also belong to an Edward Cullen Appreciation Group," she grinned proudly. "It's good fun." She laughed at my disgusted face before looking at me confused. "Wait, honey, do you still wear the necklace from grandma? I know you used to a lot."

I blanched. "Um, okay, about that..." I swallowed. "I have a confession. I kind of lost it."

Silence.

"You _what_?!"

---

We pulled up to Troy's house hours later and I fiddled with the hem of my skirt, feeling nervous and excited all at the same time. This was going to be so weird.

"Gabriella," my mom placed a hand over mine, stilling my movements. "Calm down. You look lovely."

I smiled weakly before stepping out the door and onto the sidewalk. Troy's house was beautiful with flowers in the garden and a little bench on the porch.

"It's even nicer inside," my mom whispered as we walked up to the drive and I glared at her, still completely shell shocked that she had known Troy's mother all this time.

After we rang the door bell, I tried to ignore the urge to get up and run back to the car as the anticipation of what was on the other side hammered at my brain. The door pulled open quickly and a petite woman with long dark brown hair stood in the frame, smiling brightly.

"Maria!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her. "So great to see you!"

"Lucille!" My mother exclaimed after, wrapping her own arms around the woman. "It's good to see you, too! Though I must tell you, I am hating Patti and Mary's choice of book this week."

Lucille laughed. "Oh, I agree," she smiled. "It's taking me ages to get through." She turned to me then and her eyes grew slightly larger. "And you must be Gabriella. Come in, come in!"

She ushered us into the lobby quickly, smiling and excitedly like a preteen. "Let me get a good look at you," she said, taking my wrists into her hands and holding me at arms length. "Wow," she said, looking at my face. "You are absolutely stunning! Positively gorgeous."

"Mama," a male voice said and I turned to the right to see Troy entering the room, grinning widely. "Stop inspecting Gabi."

Lucille merely grinned. "I can't help it, look at her!" She turned and patted me on the cheek. "Simply beautiful! And Troy tells me that you're wonderfully intelligent, too; always helping him with his work. How did he ever get so lucky to score a catch like you?"

My mouth fell slightly open at the insinuation and I looked at Troy who blushed about three shades darker. "Oh, I'm not..."

"She's not my girlfriend, mama," Troy said through his teeth, shooting his mother a look. "Now stop, you're making her uncomfortable."

Lucille rolled her eyes and winked. "Well, that's a shame then. Next time I see you, this had have better changed, you got it? I mean, you actually agreed to travel across the country with him! You're something special. I mean, when he threw that idea in my face, I thought it was completely and totally--"

"Okay, that's enough, mama!" Troy said suddenly, coming to stand beside his mother.

She looked at him oddly before turning to my mother. Shooting her son another look, she began to lead her into the kitchen. "Now, Maria, since my meddling in the throes of young love has been cut short, please come sample something for me. It's needs your kick, I'm afraid."

With our mothers now gone, Troy and I stood awkwardly in the hallway and I smiled weakly. "You have a beautiful home."

Troy smiled back before leaning over and taking my hand in his own. "Yeah, it's all my mom. Thanks for coming."

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thank you for inviting me."

He smiled. "Come on. I want you to meet a few people."

"Troooy!" A little girl called and ran smack into Troy's legs, hugging him tightly. Her little blonde head smiled up at him. "Let's play!"

Troy laughed as we were joined by three more kids; two boys and a girl. "Not now, Melanie," he said, bending down to pat her on the head. "There's someone I want you to meet, okay?"

Four pairs of wide eyes turned to me and I smiled, giving a little wave.

"She's pretty!" a small girl with red hair exclaimed and the boy beside her with a similar shade of ginger hair on his head nodded. Troy grinned.

"That she is," he looked at me with flushed cheeks. "Guys this is my friend Gabriella. Gabi, this is Melanie, Angie and Ryan," he said pointing to the blonde and the two red heads. "And this little guy," he picked up the smallest boy and hoisted him on his shoulder, "This here is River." He looked at me seriously and said, "My aunt and uncle were new-age hippies."

I laughed as he set River down and the small group of children excitedly began chattering. Then, out of no where, a large orange basketball came soaring out of no where. Instinctively, Troy caught it in his arms and rolled his eyes.

"Chad," he said, irritated. "What are you doing? There's kids around here and my mom will kill you if you break something."

"Sorry man," a voice said and appearing from behind the wall was a tall boy with a crazy afro of dark hair on his head. He was wearing a t-shirt with a slogan and a University of Albuquerque Redhawks jacket. I instantly recognized him as the boy who was constantly by Troy's side all throughout our four years of high school, as well as the boy who was the second one to clap for me at that fateful graduation ceremony.

"Hey, at least you caught it," he said grinning. His eyes fell on me. "Hey. Don't think we've met before. Chad Danforth."

He stuck his hand out and I shook it, smilingly pleasantly. "Gabriella Montez. I go to school with Troy."

Chad's eyes doubled in size and he looked at Troy excitedly. "Wait, what? Gabriella Montez? _The _Gabriella Montez, the one who put everyone in their places at graduation?" He looked at me grinned. "Oh ho! Wow, I feel like I'm in the presence of royalty or something. Troy and I talked about you and how awesome you were all friggin' summer."

"Chad!" Troy hissed. "Shut up, man!"

Chad blinked at him, confused. "What? Why, dude, it's Gabriella Montez and apparently you two are friends now." He turned to me and grinned a tooth smile. "I've gotta say, what you did at graduation was kick ass. The looks on everyone's faces! I loved it! My mom recorded it, cause she's sentimental and shit like that and for two days afterwards, I would watch it on repeat to see their reactions. Priceless!"

I smiled weakly, a blush flooding my cheeks at his words and the memory of the incident so many months ago. "I'm glad it was considered entertaining for you," I said, smiling.

Chad grinned even brighter and slung an arm around my shoulder. "I like you," he turned to Troy. "I like her a lot. Good pick. I'm going to call you Gabster. Is that okay with you?" I nodded mutely and he began to lead me away from Troy. "Awesome. Let's go, Gabster. You and I need to bond. Say goodbye to Troy."

"Um," I looked over my shoulder to where Troy stood, dumbstruck and holding the basketball in his hands. "Bye Troy?"

He waved, confused and Chad lead me over to the Bolton's family couch. Shoving two small children out of the way, he seated me between himself and a snoring old man.

"Um, Chad," I began uncomfortably. "What are we doing?" The man next to me let out a loud snore. "What are we doing?"

"We're getting to know each other, Gabster" Chad said simply with a smile. "If you're Troy's friend, then you've got to be my friend. Not to mention, I may be your number one fan."

"Is that so?" I asked.

He nodded and swallowed, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "Though, I've got to admit, I have to thank you." He looked me in the eye.

"For what?" I asked. "We just met. If it was for the graduation thing, seriously, don't thank me for that because that was mortifying and not at all as glamourous as you seem to think it was."

Chad laughed and shook his head. "No, I mean, for what you did for Troy." He sighed. "Without you, things could have been..."

"Dinner!" Lucille's voice called as she poked her head out of the kitchen. "Everyone in the dining room now!"

Chad looked at me and smiled slightly before clearing his throat. "Just thanks, now come on, let's go eat." He reached over me and tapped the old man on the shoulder, who snored loudly before his eyes snapped open. "Grandpa B, it's time to eat."

The old man blinked wildly. "Oh, Chad, is it dinner time?" His eyes fell on me. "Who are you?"

I stuck out my hand, trembling slightly. "I'm Gabriella Montez," I said, shyly. "I'm a friend of Troy's."

The man raised his eyebrows. "I'm Troy's grandfather. Are you the one who told off all those people at his graduation? You're a good catch." He leaned over and looked at Chad. "She's a good catch, isn't she?"

---

Sitting around the table half an hour later, my mother and I had been introduced to Troy's seemingly endless family members, as well as Chad's mother, father and two sisters. I sat at my seat next to my mother and beside Chad, who had insisted he sit by royalty.

I had to admit, Chad was nothing like I had expected him to be. In high school, he was always just that jock jerk who followed Troy around. In reality, he was charismatic, cheerful and humorous. I quite liked him.

"So we're going down to California to play Berkeley in a couple of weeks," Chad was saying enthusiastically, "and we're going to kick their asses. I mean, seriously, us Redhawks are hardcore awesome."

"It's good to hear you're doing so well," Jack Bolton, Troy's father, said. He had smiled at me warmly upon meeting me and I instantly realized where Troy got his own kind smile. The dynamic, however, between father and son seemed awkward as the two sat three seats away from each other. Troy seemed tense and uncomfortable and I wondered if it had to do with his father.

"Yeah, it's been great," Chad said, his mouth half full. "Playing for the Redhawks is a dream."

Jack laughed. "It's a shame you won't be playing Troy," he looked at his son pointedly.

"What do you mean?" Grandpa Bolton asked, setting his fork down. "You're not playing for the NYU team?"

Troy shook his head and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "Didn't make the cut."

His grandfather's eyebrows raised. "That's a shame."

"Damn right it is," Jack agreed, taking a gulp of his drink. "I mean, all those years of working, all that talent -- wasted."

"I'm doing other stuff, dad," Troy said, his voice rough. "I mean, I'm still getting used to university. It's not the end of the world."

"Maybe so," Jack said, lacing his fingers together. "But I knew you should have played for the Redhawks; all of that time in New York, I bet you were barely even training. It must be distracting, what with all the craziness in that city."

Troy stiffened. "I trained when I got the chance, dad," he said bitterly. "The course load is a lot heavier than in high school."

"I'm just saying, maybe if you had put more time and effort into it, Troy, you would have made the team and would be playing against Chad here," he gestured towards him.

"Actually," I said suddenly, the words falling out of my lips before I could stop them. Every face at the table turned to look at me and I flushed darkly, wondering why I had said anything at all and willing myself to shut up.

But I didn't. I kept going. "Troy actually put a lot of time into training for the tryouts," I kept my eyes fixed down on the food in front of me. "I ran into him all the time when he was at this empty basketball court, just practicing. And I was there at the tryouts," I swallowed and looked up, meeting Troy's eyes, which were wide and disbelieving. "He played fantastically."

The table was quiet for a second and Jack snapped his fingers suddenly. "Wait, you're the girl who said all that stuff at graduation? The one who put everyone in their places?"

I nodded, my cheeks flaming hot and Jack smiled awkwardly.

"Then I'll take what you said into consideration, Gabriella," he said, turning back to his food. "You did after all, tell it like it is at graduation. Now, Maggie, Christopher tells me you've been having some trouble with the real estate market? How's that working out for you?"

The tense atmosphere at the table dissipated and everyone resumed eating and talking. I looked up carefully only to find Troy's eyes on me, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you," he mouthed, before going back to his food.

---

I leaned against the wall, watching as Troy's cousins played with one another, laughing excitedly. I grinned at the sight.

Suddenly, I felt a warm hand grasp my wrist and I immediately knew who it was. Smiling, I turned to the side to face Troy.

"Hey," I said, leaning into his touch slightly. "Dinner was wonderful."

He didn't say anything, a small smile on his lips. "Come with me," he said softly. "I want to show you something."

I nodded and allowed myself to be pulled in the direction towards the kitchen's back door. He opened it and pulled me outside, the warm Albuquerque air falling on my skin.

"Where are we going?" I asked, looking around the large backyard. A small basketball court was off to one side then my eyes fell on a large oak tree on the opposite side.

He smiled and pointed to the tree. "Look up."

Nestled in the branches of the tree was a large treehouse. I looked at Troy confused. "We're going into your treehouse?"

He nodded, pulling me over to it. "You bet." He gestured to the ladder. "Ladies first."

Still looking at him perplexed, I grasped the wooden steps and ascended the ladder quickly, pulling myself up into the treehouse. It was huge with plans for crazy battles against neighborhood kids and posters decorating the walls. Baseball bats and gloves littered one side and board games, comic books and a small toy robot on the other. A pirates wheel graced the side of the railing and I smiled, amazed at Troy Bolton's childhood graveyard.

"Wow," I said as he stepped into the treehouse himself. "This is probably cooler than my room."

Troy laughed. "It's the only thing about Albuquerque that I miss," he said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. "It's a good place to think. In high school, everytime my dad pissed me off or a girl would break my heart, I'd come up here. It helped a lot."

I smiled at him and walked out to lean against the railing and stare out into his backyard. "It's wonderful. I wish I had a place like this."

He came to stand next to me. "Well, if you're ever in Albuquerque, this place is always open. I may even come up here and join you myself."

"I'd like that," I said bashfully and he ducked his head down.

"What you did back there," he began, clearing this throat, "Defending me against my dad...that was..."

My eyes grew slightly wide. "I'm sorry," I said, placing a hand on his arm. "I shouldn't have, I know. I mean, I was out of place and I probably should have thought about it, but the words just fell from my lips before I could say anything. Your dad must hate me."

Troy chuckled. "No, it was...it was so great of you. I've spent my whole life living up to what he wants me to be and now that I'm not, it's hard. But you...you just make it all easier for me. Thank you." He smiled. "And he doesn't hate you, Gabi. He pulled me aside and said that he can respect a girl who can stand up for what and whom she believes in. Said I found 'a good match'."

I laughed awkwardly and looked out to the backyard again. "Every seems to say things like that about us lately," I said, trying to make a joke out of it. "I'm starting to wonder why."

"Thought you didn't think about that," Troy said, smiling.

I shrugged. "Well, _maybe_ I decided I _maybe_ should."

Troy inched towards me, his shoulder grazing mine. "_Maybe_...they're seeing something we're not."

I looked up at him and when our eyes met, the wind got knocked right out of me. I turned my body towards his and his hand came down to rest on my waist, pulling me closer to him. My own hand travelled up his chest, resting just below his heart so I could feel his erratic beating. I swallowed.

"You think so?" I asked quietly and he nodded.

"I'm pretty positive."

He swooped down and finally pressed his lips to my own. I melted into him, a million sensations running through my body as he pressed his warm lips to mine. Carefully, I moved my own against his and felt him respond, pulling back slightly to capture my bottom lip, sucking gently. My hand slid up his chest and onto the back of his neck, pulling him even closer.

This is what it was like kissing Troy, something I had imagined so many times before. I felt his hand travel up my back and up to my shoulder blades as he pulled me even closer, his lips still moving against mine. It was like nothing I had imagined. It was _so _much better. His lips were warm and soft, firm against mine and I felt a million butterflies coursing through me.

I couldn't believe it was happening, but at the same time I couldn't imagine it never occurring at all.

Finally, breath became an issue and we pulled back, resting our foreheads against one another's. Troy panted, trying to catch his breath and he smiled weakly, shyly at me.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," he confessed, pulling me flush against him. Leaning up, I pecked his lips gently.

"I can imagine," I said and he smiled against my lips. "Trust me, I can imagine."

With that, he wrapped his hands securely against my waist and pulled me against him so no space remained and kissed me again, still gently, still softly; walking on lines and testing ever so carefully the boundaries between us.

It was everything I could have asked for.

"_The only reason that is an issue is because in that moment, we did not kiss, so it's like this, this big unanswered question."_

_- Ben Covington_

---

YAY. They've kissed. :) It's been a long time coming and truthfully, a part of me never thought I'd get to write it, so this is very, very exciting for me.

Next chapter is already in progress and will probably be completed after I post this one. I also have three days off of school this week, so I'm estimating that I'll be finished writing the whole thing this week.

That being said, yes, this story is ending, but not just yet. There's still two chapters and an epilogue of sorts left after this one. :) I mean, Troy and Gabi can't just kiss and have no...consequences, after all. At least, I won't let them.

There's a few key crucial elements that haven't been communicated between the two yet. :)

I'm in the process of planning my next projects. My one straight after this will be far more less epic and will actually focus on Kelsi, considering I never write her, just use her as a plot device. Troy and Gabi will be there, too, but they'll be older and sexier and kind of awesome? And there's music, lots of music. The whole point is mostly just an excuse for me to be a music geek. Mostly.

The next one after that is another Troyella and it will be slightly epic, though not as epic as this one and it's gonna be hella angsty and dramatic and may possibly take place in London. Have not decided yet. :D

Also, I just spent thirty dollars on HSM 3 Sing It! and it was one of the best things I may have done since I bought HSM 3 on Blu-Ray instead of DVD.


	18. I Only Want It to Begin

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**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Eighteen: I Only Want it To Begin_

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My mother requested, though it was closer to a demand, that I take the train back to New York. Troy still had to drive the car back, so he left Albuquerque a day earlier than I did, but I would still arrive before him.

The memory of the kiss we shared would not get out of my head; I replayed the image and the moment over and over in my head, recalling the soft feel of his lips. After about twenty minutes of sitting and sharing kiss after kiss in his treehouse, he lead me down the ladder and back into his parent's house, where we sat on the couch holding hands for the next hour and a half, just talking with his family members and each other.

Chad shot me the odd look every now and then, a soft smile playing on his lips and I wondered why he had tried to thank me earlier, especially since he didn't know me from Adam. Still, he had a kind smile and a cheerful disposition and I could see why he and Troy were such strong friends.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I stared out of the window of my door, happy to be back in New York, but feeling oddly homesick for the warmth and comfort of Albuquerque. I felt closer to my mom than I had ever felt before and the days had gone by with us shopping and oddly enough, repainting the bathroom walls. My mother had decided it was time for a change promptly after my departure to New York in the fall and had ripped down the wallpaper, but stopped half way. Determined not to let it stay in this half renovated state, I declared we finish up while I anxiously waited for my cell phone to ring.

Troy called -- sometimes twice -- everyday of our break, sometimes just to talk and others to schedule little get-togethers. I went over to his house for lunch and was able to get to know his mother a little bit better. While we were not officially a couple, the ground work was set and I anxiously awaited the moment we formally made it 'official'.

Never in a million years did I ever think there would be a chance that he and I would become friends, nevermind something more. Yet here I was, cell phone clutched in my hand, waiting for him to call as I stared out to the New York scenery.

Sharpay was due back anytime, but I still had no one to talk to as I waited for his call. I sighed, aggravated, but just when it seemed like it would never happen; my phone rang. I let it ring twice, not wanting to see too eager, but my response upon flipping open the phone told otherwise.

"Hey," I said excitedly, not having to look at the caller ID to know who it was.

"Hey," Troy's voice crackled over the other end. "How are you? You back in New York already?"

I nodded, but shook my head when I realized he couldn't hear me. Standing up from my bed, I walked to the other side of the room, pacing. "Yeah. I got in about four hours ago. How about you? How much longer till you get back?

"Uh, I've got about two, two and a half hours left," Troy said and I could hear him turn down the volume on the radio.

I scrunched my nose. "Aw. That doesn't sound too pleasant. Has the driving been good?"

"Yeah, smooth," he replied before sighing. "Not going to lie though. It's kind of boring here without you."

I laughed. "Even though I spent a good portion of it freaking out at you?"

He laughed along with me. "I'd rather you were here yelling at me."

Leaning against my closet, I sighed. "I'm sorry about that, Troy. I know I've apologized, but I really ripped into you without a valid reason."

"Gabi, Gabi, Gabi," Troy said, chuckling. "Don't worry about it. It's in the past." He paused again and the silence between us was comforting and tense all at once. "I really miss you."

I swallowed, my heart leaping into my throat as it beat wildly. "I miss you, too," I said softly. "Just count to sixty one hundred and fifty times," I said with a smile. "It'll go by like that."

"Is that what you're planning to do?"

Opening the door of my closet, I looked at it in disappointment. It was crazy messy, filled with junk littering the floor and the top shelf. "You know what? I think I'm actually going to clean up my closet." I pulled a shoebox off the top shelf and a pile of things fell onto the floor. I winced as something hit my foot. "Oww."

"Are you okay?" Troy said, slightly alarmed. "I just heard a crash. Was it from your closet? Cause I've seen inside there and it was worse than Zeke's sock drawer."

Groaning, I kicked at the items on the floor. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm probably going to go find a helmet or something to wear, some sort of protection gear. This could be dangerous."

Troy laughed. "Probably for the best. I want you in one piece, Gabi."

I smiled into the phone, blushing shyly. "I'll see you when you get home?"

"Your dorm is the first place I'm stopping," he said softly, "After I drop my bags into my dorm, of course. There's something I wanted to ask you."

"Okay," I whispered. "I'll see you then."

"Bye, Gabi," he replied and I clicked my phone shut, my heart still pounding wildly. This was it. This was the moment I was waiting for, my chance to finally be with him. Looking down at the mess below me, I groaned, not wanting to deal with it, but knowing it would pass the time.

Crouching down, I picked up the shoebox that was now in full disarray and scooped but the items that had fallen out. Hairclips, movie stub tickets that I had saved when Troy, Sharpay and I had made a habit of sneaking into dollar movies for a week straight. I smiled to myself, but something red and bold caught my eye.

Setting the box door, I reached over and my hand clasped around the object and my heart jumped. It was my yearbook. I hadn't even realized I had brought it with me, but apparently, I had. Running my fingers over the silver letters that spelled out our school mascot, I shuddered and carefully, flipped it open.

My eyes fell straight on the bold, black markings that was the inscription, the only inscription in my yearbook.

The one Troy had written.

My eyes scanned over his words and I felt my hands begin to tremble, my heart begin to race.

"_But I do know that you've changed me, inspired me in ways you can't even imagine. I'm sorry we never got the chance for you to find out."_

The words he had written six months ago seemed to pop of the page, their text so fresh and strong, glaring me in the eye. I felt my body begin to shake and I was transported back to last summer, where I spent three weeks dedicating myself to following this boy across the country. I shivered at the thought and my heart sank.

I had forgotten. In the months Troy and I had become close, I had forgotten that I had, in the beginning, come to New York for Troy. I had come here with the notion and the hopes of getting to know him, all because of what he wrote in my yearbook, all because of how he treated me at graduation. Thinking back on it, it was crazy; following someone over two thousand miles just to try and get to know him.

But I was in love with him, or at least, I had thought I was. But I wasn't. I was infatuated with an idea, an image.

What about now? My hand touched my lips, the ones he had so thoroughly kissed only a few days before and I shuddered. Was I in love with him now? I cared for him deeply, as a person. As this boy who was completely ridiculous and adorable about things like refrigerators and frozen pizza and saving seats for each other at coffee bars. This boy who was trying so desperately to be his own person, but to do everyone else proud. This boy who had bought me a necklace and jumped into a pool with me and traveled across the country with me. This boy with the stunning blue eyes that had stared into mine over and over again.

If I wasn't in love with him, I was at least falling.

Running my hand over his words, my heart still caught in my throat, I tried to contemplate what would happen next. I had to tell him that I came to New York for him, but at the same time, I couldn't. I would sound crazy; everything we had worked towards, everything we had been through would be ruined. It would seem like I had wanted it too strongly, that I was obsessed with him.

At the same time, remembering the feelings of excitement that I had while packing my bags to go to New York for the first time, I couldn't help but feel that maybe, I couldn't go on without telling him. How could I look at him everyday, kiss his lips and not let him know that he had inspired the best decision of my life?

No. It was too risky. I couldn't do that to him, to myself. It wasn't worth it.

The door suddenly flung open and I jumped half a mile, a hand clutched to my chest, the other still holding onto my yearbook. Sharpay stumbled into the doorway, laughing to herself and carrying half a dozen pink bags.

"I'll see you later, Ryan," she said to the figure outside the door before closing it behind her, smiling brightly. She glanced around the room, confused, until her eyes landed on me. She quirked an eyebrow.

"Gabriella," she began slowly. "Why are you sitting in your closet in a pile of junk?"

My eyes shot up to meet hers. "Troy kissed me."

Sharpay dropped her bags and her mouth fell open. She let out a shriek before leaping over to me in three quick strides. She threw her arms around me and I was overtaken by the smell of Betsey Johnson perfume.

"Oh my god!" she squealed. "Finally! I've been waiting forever for this! Was it when you guys were in Albuquerque? It was, wasn't it? Oh my god! I'm so excited! I have to tell Zeke, he owes me money! Where is Troy? Where is your little boyfriend? Oh my god, can I call him that now? For like, real?"

"Sharpay," I said suddenly, my face pale. I felt dizzy and panicked. "He's still driving back. He should be here in a couple of hours."

"Oh," she said, realization dawning on her face. "I see. Ahh! I can't wait for him to come and I can tease you two mercessily! I mean, I," she paused. "Are you okay?"

I swallowed. "I don't think so."

She looked at me, her face furrowing in concern. "Gabriella," she said softly, placing her hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

With shaking hands, I held out the yearbook to her. "Read the inscription," I said, my voice trembling. Staring at me strangely, she accepted the book and flipped to through it till she found the inscription page.

"Which one?" she asked, before her eyes landed on the page. "Oh, there's only one." I watched as her eyes scanned the words. "It's from Troy. Okay. You guys were friends in high school? So what?"

"No, Sharpay," I said, pointing at it closer. "Don't just skim it. Read it closely. He and I were never friends."

"Okay," she said again slowly. "I'm sorry, I don't get the point. You guys weren't friends and then you ended up at the same university, awesome. Now you're falling in love. Great. What's the?"

"I came here because of him," I said, swallowing hard, my eyes clouding with tears. "He wrote this in my yearbook and I decided I needed to get to know him, needed to see if he...if there was any chance he felt the same way."

"What are you saying?" she asked carefully and I sighed.

"I was...in love, and I use the term loosely, with Troy all throughout high school."

Sharpay gaped at me and leaned back on her haunches. "Whoa," she breathed, glancing down at the inscription. "So he wrote this in your yearbook and you changed your college plans?"

I nodded. "I was supposed to go to Stanford. I deferred at the last minute and spent three weeks getting into NYU. They made an exception."

She looked back down at the book, then at me. "Does Troy know about this?"

I shook my head. "No."

Sharpay didn't say anything for a moment before standing up and flinging the yearbook back on the top shelf. "Okay. It needs to stay that way."

"What, Sharpay?" I asked, springing up and jumping to grab the yearbook. It was wedged between a stack of old binders and my pencil case. "I just can't--"

"You cannot tell him, Gabriella," she said firmly. "This is big. Bigger than life itself. You can't spring that on him, not right now when you're on the verge of becoming an actual official couple."

"But Sharpay," I said, my voice strained. "You can't just expect me to never tell him."

"Tell him after you get married!" She said, throwing her hands up. "Tell him when you're sitting there in your gorgeous living room with a bouncing baby on your knee. Go, oh, by the way I changed my college plans for you all those years ago and we're also out of milk."

I sat down on my bed, pressing my fists into my hands. "I don't think I can do this."

"You're right," Sharpay said, sitting next to me. "You can't tell him."

"No," I said, staring straight ahead. "I don't think I can be with. I don't think I'm ready for this. I don't think I'll be able to handle the shift in our relationship. What if it doesn't work out? What if--?"

"Gabi, stop," Sharpay said, grabbing me by the shoulders. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't throw away everything because you're afraid."

"I can't do this, Sharpay. He'll have to find out sometime and there's no way that I can go through the motions of being with him while this is looming over my memory."

"Gabriella," she said, "Do not tell him. Be with him or don't, but do not tell him."

We stared at the closet where the bright red yearbook was staring back at us and neither of us moved, the words written by Troy's hands burned into our memories.

---

I dreaded Troy's arrival for the rest of the afternoon. While earlier, before discovering the yearbook, I had seriously contemplated counting to sixty all those times just to make the time pass. Now, I felt sick and shaken at the idea of his homecoming and watched my door anxiously, waiting for his inevitable knock.

I debated whether to tell him that I wasn't feeling well or something along those lines, thinking that maybe he would accept it and not come by. But knowing Troy, he'd come anyway and try to see if I needed anything or the likes. It was better to face it head on then just let it loom over me forever.

His knock on the door made me jump and with shaking limbs, I stood and answered it, taking in a deep breath before closing my hand on the doorknob and opening it slowly. I sucked in a breath when I saw Troy standing there, leaning against the door frame and smiling softly. He was wearing a crisp, white button down and a pair of dark denim jeans, his hair slightly wet and flopping into his blue eyes.

He was beautiful.

"Hey, Gabi," he said almost breathlessly. "Sorry I took longer than expected; I needed a shower and didn't think it was fair to subject you to smelly old me." He stepped closer to me and placed his hands on my hips, drawing me up against him. Bending down, he gently kissed my lips in a greeting and I felt goosebumps erupt on my skin.

When he pulled back, his eyes were twinkling. "I missed you," he said, resting his forehead against mine.

"It's only been two days," I answered just as softly, playing with a loose thread on his shirt, trying desperately to still my pounding heart. He was too close, much, much too close. Why wasn't I pulling away?

"Two days too long," he said, bringing his lips to mine again in a sweet kiss. I clung to him, wanting to memorize the feel of his lips so that I would never forget it.

Pulling back from him completely, I looked down at the floor and stepped aside for him to come in. He complied, raising his eyebrows at my odd behavior. I was stiff and my cheeks were hot, my eyes glassy.

"You okay?" he asked, surveying the room. His eyes fell on my closet, the contents of which were still pouring out onto the floor. "I thought you said you were going to organize that."

"Yeah, well," I shrugged non-chantly. "I got distracted. It happens."

Troy didn't say anything, nodding slightly before taking a seat on my desk chair.  "Oh," he said softly. "Is Sharpay back? Zeke still isn't."

"Yeah," I said, looking down at my feet again. He was sitting in front of me and for the first time it really, really hit me. He was Troy Bolton, the boy I lusted over for four years. He was the one I had thought about and wanted so desperately and now he was the boy I had fallen for so hard, the one who had kissed my lips so sweetly.

It was almost surreal.

"You okay?" he asked, coming to stand next to me. He cupped my face with his hand and again, I shuddered at his touch, not feeling worthy of it.

"Yeah," I swallowed harshly. "You um, wanted to ask me something?"

Troy blushed slightly and looked at me through his bangs. "Yeah, um, but I didn't want to make it as casual as this. I was thinking we could go for a walk? Or go to Jenny's? Something?"

"If you don't mind," I said in a clipped voice, "Why don't we just stay here?"

"Okay," he agreed, running his thumb over my cheek. He laughed nervously. "I don't know how to really go about this...it feels awkward just...asking."

"Asking what?"

He swallowed and brought his other hand to my other cheek, so he was cradling my head in his hands. "I like you, Gabi," he said, his voice husky. "I want to be with you, you have to know that by now. I want you to...I'd love it if you'd be my girlfriend."

I closed my eyes. _Girlfriend_. Troy wanted me to be his girlfriend. He liked me. He cared about me.

Wasn't this what I had wanted all along?

Yes, it was, with _that_ Troy Bolton. The I had stared at during chemistry and biology classes, the one who wrote that in my yearbook, the one who I followed to New York. But this Troy, this silly, goofy, sincere and amazing Troy? The one that I cared about and maybe even loved so much more? Was I willing to risk everything a second time for him? Was I willing to risk the chance of ruining this great thing we had, this great friendship? Especially now that I had re-discovered the yearbook and remembered just the affect he had had on me. Would he still feel the way after he found out? Could I go on without him knowing?

"I...I don't know," I said, swallowing. Troy's hands fell from my face and too my arms and he smiled weakly.

"Gabi," he said, his voice quiet. "What's the problem? I like you, Gabi, I really, really like you. I thought you felt the same way.

I avoided looking at his eyes. "I do, I just..."

"Then what's is it?" He looked hurt and I closed my eyes tightly, unable to bear the expression on his face. "After everything that happened over break, after everything we've been through together...don't you want it too?

"I just...I don't know if we can do this. What if we've just confused our feelings, being back in Albuquerque and all? What if--"

"Gabi," Troy said, grabbing me by the shoulders, his eyes desperate. "I'm crazy about you. You're all I think about. I wake up and think about you. I go to bed and I think about you. What do I need to do to make that clear?"

"Troy," I said, squirming to get out of his grasp. "It's not that simple, you can't just...we can't just..."

"Why not?" he asked, his voice pleading. "I just want to be with you, Gabi."

"No, you don't," I said.

"How can you say that?" He asked, exasperated. "I come to you when I'm nervous as fuck about the basketball tryouts. You're the one I ask to come break into the fucking pool with me. I bought you that necklace. I have a playlist of songs for you, Gabi," he swallowed. "Songs that remind me of you. Songs that I sit there, listen to and think about_ you_."

"Troy, I..."

"My mom never wanted me to drive back," he confessed suddenly. "It was my idea. I took the money from my savings account. I just wanted to be with you. I had it all elaborately planned; we were going to have this great trip and I was going to confess everything and anything to you. But then I screwed it up and you got so mad and I just..."

"You what?" I quirked an eyebrow. "You lied about that? Why?"

"Because!" He spat, "I...I don't know! You _do_ these kinds of things to me, Gabriella. You make me think so irrationally I don't even know which way is up. I'm stuck between knowing what and what not to do and everytime I'm with you...you...you just skew all the edges of everything." He stared at me, his eyes penetrating deep into mine. "How can you sit here and listen to me confessing everything, telling you I made up some stupid, illogical story to get you to come with me? It was crazy, doing that. How can you not believe that I am desperately and hopelessly falling for you?"

"**Because I came here for **_**you**_**!**"

The room went silent for a moment and I clapped my hand over my mouth, not believing that I had just said what I think I just said. No, there was no way I told him like that. Why did I even tell him?

He shook his head and stared at me, taking a deep breath. "What?"

_Oh, to hell with it_. "You. I came here because of _you_." Stomping past him, I opened my closet door and pulled the yearbook out from the top shelf, flipping through it till I found the page with his single inscription. Propping the book open, I shoved it in his face.

"You wrote these words in my yearbook six months ago," I said, my voice low and harsh. "You wrote them and I thought, hey, you know what, this guy might actually care about me."

He looked up from the inscription to me, his hands shaking. "You came _here_ because of something _I_ wrote in your yearbook?"

"Yes!" I spat, my voice cracking. "I did. I rearranged my college plans, my _life_ for you. I was supposed to go to Stanford and I deferred. I spent all summer getting into this school just so I could maybe get to know you. Because of something you wrote. Still think you're so crazy?"

Shutting the book slowly, hands still trembling, he set it down on my bed, avoiding my eyes. "I have to go," he said suddenly, making his way to the door.

"No, Troy," I said, feeling the panic rush through my veins. Why had I told him? Oh god, why had the words fallen out of my mouth? Now they were out there, floating around the air and there was no way I could take them back. "Don't go."

"Gabi," he said, his hand on the doorknob, "I can't--"

"Don't go, please," I pleaded with him. "Let's talk about this."

"Gabriella," he said suddenly and the look on his face made me stop. His hands were trembling and his eyes seemed shocked and...afraid? "You just told me that you changed your college plans for me. You came to New York because...because of me? Why?"

"Because I...I used to be crazy about you, Troy," I confessed, my own voice shaking. "I always wondered what you were like, what you thought, what you would say...all throughout high school. I just wanted to be your friend, be your anything. Then you wrote those words in my yearbook and I just thought...I just thought..."

"You thought what?" he said softly, grasping the doorknob tightly.

I looked down, avoiding his gaze. "I just thought that maybe you wanted to get to know me, too." My voice cracked then and I saw Troy flinch out the corner of my eye.

"I just...you're right, Gabi, we can't do this," he opened the door. "At least not...not _now_. I need...I need to think about this. I'll um, I'll see you later."

With that, he stepped out the door, closing it quickly behind him. I stood and stared at the spot where he had stood moments before and then glanced at my yearbook. With hot tears of frustration bubbling in my eyes, I grabbed the book off my bed and tore out the inscription page, ripping Troy's words into tiny little pieces. Slumping on the floor next to my bed, I drew my knees up to my chest.

And then I cried.

"_You don't. You just don't. I think maybe you have to take a leap of faith. I mean, that's what love is. Risking a part of yourself."_

_- Felicity Porter_


	19. Right Now, I Need Your Smile

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Nineteen: Right Now, I Need Your Smile_

---

"Gabriella," a voice beside me said. "You have to get out of that bed sometime."

Rolling over in my bed, I pulled my blankets over me tighter. "No, I don't."

Sharpay sat on the edge of my bed and set a glass of water on my night-table. She yanked back the covers. "Yes, you do."

"Seriously, Sharpay," I snapped, pulling the blankets back to me. "Just let me be!"

"Gabriella," she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Please get out of bed. It's making me crazy to see you like this. Go, talk to Troy. You didn't even go to class yesterday."

Lowering the blankets slightly, I peered at her over them. "I can't, Sharpay," I said honestly. "I just can't."

The pit in my stomach was expanding by the minute, the sharp stinging pain in my chest was overbearing. My eyes were puffy, red and swollen from hours upon hours of crying. I hadn't spoken to Troy in two days, which granted how much time we had been spending together, seemed like forever. I longed to see his smiling face, his bright blue eyes and sunny disposition. Instead I had thrown it all away.

Why had I told him? It had just ruined everything, just as I had suspected it would. I should have been stronger, should have been smarter. Should have never told him; what good did it do?

"I've ruined everything," I said, sitting up slowly in my bed, the heels of my palms pressed into my eyes. Tears trickled down my face in abandon. "I should have never come here, Sharpay."

Sharpay brought a hand to my face and tucked a strand of hair away, pulling my hands down from my eyes. "How can you even say that, Gabriella? You didn't ruin anything; things are just a little messed up right now. You came here acting on emotion so of course revealing such a thing is going to result in an emotional outcome. Maybe you could have told Troy more tactfully or at least fifteen years from now, but it doesn't matter either way. The fact is that you _did_ tell him and you're one step away from being in love with him. You can't let that go, not now, not ever. Or you'll always be wondering what could have been and you don't want to go through that."

I stared at Sharpay through my cloudy eyes, marveling at her kind words. In that moment, she reminded me so much of Ryan it was uncanny. She continued, looking down uncomfortably. "Besides, if you didn't come here, things would be so different. I could kiss Troy Bolton for writing those words in your yearbook cause they brought you here. You've been a friend to all of us; an over-emotional dramatic fool a lot of the time, but a friend, nevertheless. And I'm sure Troy feels the same way."

At the mention of his name, I shook my head and my lip trembled as the tears flooded my vision once more. "No. He hates me. He thinks I'm some kind of freak. Who the hell follows someone they barely know nearly two-thousand miles? Who does that? Worst of all, who tells that person?"

"He doesn't hate you, Gabriella," Sharpay said firmly. "Yes, you know, you probably threw him for a loop, but he could never hate you and you know it. So get your butt out of bed and get ready; Zeke and I are performing tonight and we want you there."

"No," I said stubbornly, flopping back down in bed. "I'll just stay here and cry thanks."

"No, you will not!" Sharpay pulled my comforter off my body and I shivered at the new temperature. "You will not sit here and listen to...what is this?" She paused at the music that was pouring from my laptop.

"It's the song Troy and I danced to at the party," I said, the lump rising in my throat. "Oh, god, 'I Will Follow'? I'm so messed up, Sharpay."

"Gabriella, get out of bed." She pulled my ankle and dragged me to the floor, where I slumped in a heap. "Zeke is making Troy go tonight."

I untwisted my limbs and my head snapped up to face Sharpay. "He's what?"

"Zeke is trying to convince Troy to come tonight," Sharpay said slowly. "And if he wants to continue dating me, he'll do so."

"Wait," I furrowed an eyebrow. "You and Zeke are dating? Like, officially?"

Sharpay blushed slightly, the first I had ever really seen from her. "Yeah, so? Not the point, Gabriella. Now put on those hot black skinny jeans Taylor and I forced you to buy from H&M and make your face up. I will stand for nothing less."

---

I sat on the couch at Jenny's uncomfortably, wishing I was anywhere else but here. My eyes still hurt from the endless crying I had done, my cheeks raw from scrubbing at them. I felt exhausted and stressed and tired and lonely. Sitting nestled between Taylor and Ryan was nothing in comparison to how it felt to be next to Troy.

"I really shouldn't be here," I mumbled and Ryan looked at me oddly. It was at that moment I realized that he had little to no clue what was going on, as did Taylor.

"You okay?" Ryan asked carefully, putting his arm around Kelsi, who was seated next to him. "You seem awfully quiet."

"Yeah," Kelsi agreed. "Where's Troy, by the way? Don't you two normally go to these things together?"

I slumped down in my seat, feeling awkward. "Um, we kind of had a falling out," I admitted, for a lack of a better term.

"What?" Taylor asked, confused. "When did this happen? When I talked to you over break, you said things were going great between you, maybe even wonderful. What happened?"

"Just...some stuff," I said, not wanting the whole world to know why I was in New York. Sharpay was the exception, for she had seen me at my most vulnerable after discovering the yearbook. "It happened a couple of days ago,"

Taylor raised her eyebrows. "You two haven't been talking for _two days_? _What_? That's not like you guys. Even when you fought about the assassin game, that lasted like, two hours!"

"It's different this time," I admitted. "It's a lot more...complicated."

"How?" Taylor asked.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ryan asked more tactfully.

"No, I--"

"Guys!' Kelsi suddenly hissed. "Shut up! Troy just walked in!"

My head whirled around and I was startled to see him standing there, dressed in his black coat and dark jeans. His hair was a floppy mess and he seemed tired. He smiled weakly at Kelsi and Ryan, avoiding my gaze before walking over. My heart pounded in my chest. Would he say anything to me? Would he smile? Would he act like nothing happened? Would he treat me radically different? Would he admit he hated me? Would he kiss me? What would he do?

In fact, he did nothing.

"Hey," he said quietly, still not looking at me. He took a seat at he armchair across from us and shrugged off his coat before pulling out his phone and scrolling through text messages, not once looking in my direction. I flushed at his obvious avoidance.

"Hi," Ryan said awkwardly and I began to fumble in my purse, trying to find something to focus on. My cell phone. Retrieving it, I jumped up from the couch.

"I'm um, gong to go make a phone call," I said, suddenly and three pairs of eyes, excluding the blue ones I had grown to adore, stared back at me. "I'll just be a second."

Making my way through the crowded cafe, I entered the small bathroom and locked the door. Flipping open the phone, I did the one thing I could think to do in a situation like this.

I called my mother.

When I was little and I would have nightmares, often convoluted ones that involved dinosaurs declaring that they wanted to eat me for tea or more disconcerting ones in which my parents died, I would wander into my parents room very quietly, trying not to wake them. Then, rigid like an ironing board, I would stand by my mother's side of the bed and carefully, oh so slowly, reach out and touch her arm to wake her. She would jump and my dad would wake immediately, asking if I was okay. As my mother re-emerged from slumber, I'd tell them I had a bad dream and my mother would take me back to my room.

There she'd stay with me till I fell asleep again, comforting me and telling me stories of princesses whose princes' kissed them awake. Of frogs and swans that could talk and I grew up believing that all these things were possible. When I was scared, my mother comforted me and allowed me to be taken out of that place to a calmer area.

I needed that right now.

The phone rang three times before my mother answered. "Hello?" she asked sweetly and I felt the tears prick at my eyes.

"Mommy," I said pathetically. "I screwed up."

"What happened, baby?" she asked, panicked. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

I sniffed, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "I'm fine, there's no emergency or anything. I just...I said some things I shouldn't have."

"To whom, baby?"

"To Troy," I admitted, my breath catching in my throat. "I think I may have ruined things, mom."

"Gabriella Montez, you listen up," my mother said firmly, but soothly. "I have never seen you smile as much as when you did when you were around that boy. You have given him the power to make you happy and obviously, you have given him the power to take that away. I do not like or approve of that one bit, Gabriella."

I bit my lip, closing my eyes, realizing she was right. Oh, if only she knew...but I would never bring myself to let her know. "But, Gabriella," she said, slowly. "I have never seen a boy look at a girl the way Troy looks at you and from that, I know that you have the power to make him happy, too. Don't take it away from him, baby. Whatever it is, you two...you can work it out. If you really care about each other and you're both really friends...you can overcome this."

"What if it's a really big deal?" I asked, calming down. "Like, a life altering big deal?"

"If your relationship is strong, then nothing can break through that. Trust me, baby. Your father and I went through hell and back and we were still together. We are still together, just in a different way."

I smiled weakly and looked up, imaging having this conversation with my father. Chances are he'd threaten to beat Troy up and say he was no good for me, but I'd see it in his eyes that he only wanted us to reconcile, for me to be happy. And my mother was right, Troy did make me happy.

That alone made me want to hold onto him forever.

Finishing the conversation with my mother, I walked back into the main part of the cafe and sat between Ryan and Taylor again, Troy still avoiding my eyes. I swallowed and was about to say something to start a general conversation, when Sharpay and Zeke graced the stage.

"Hey everyone," Sharpay said brightly into the microphone. "We're just becoming a regular class act, aren't we?" She gestured to she and Zeke and the crowd gave a whoop of appreciation. She giggled, before removing the microphone from it's stand and cradling it in her hands.

"So we're doing something a little different today," she said, and when her eyes fell on me, my blood turned to ice in my veins. What was she up to? "We're going to sing a couple for you, but we're starting with a cover, actually. We have a couple of friends who are going through a bit of a hard time because they're insipid!" She grinned and her eyes darted from me to Troy casually. "So this first song, 'Even So' by Rachel Yamagata, goes out to you two. You know who are you."

Zeke positioned himself behind a keyboard, a talent I did not know he possessed and he played the opening chord before Sharpay opened her mouth and began to sing. There was no intro, just plain raw lyrics that broke my heart.

"You're gonna hate me when I tell you everything," she sang softly, her eyes closed. "You're gonna question whether you really know me at all. You will revisit every smile and where it fit into the day, I know this is how it will play."

"And I try, oh, I try to think of all the things that I could do to let you know that I love you even so."

My heart stopped beating and I saw Troy stiffen from the corner of my eye. Tears welled in my own and my shoulders began to shake. How could she sing this song here? How could she sing these words that so plainly related to me? Was this meant to fix things?

The song seemed to go on forever, with chord progressions and key changes galore. I shivered as the words broke through my calm exterior, wanting nothing more then to leap up from the couch and out of the building.

Yet I remained seated.

""I try so very hard and I cry, I cry so very much. For I love you like you let yourself feel again, I love you like a brother and a friend. I love you with my whole heart until it burns, I love like a lover until the end," she opened her eyes slowly, her voice now shaking. "But I'll always think of all the things that you did to let me know that you loved me, but you're leaving even so..."

With that, the song came to a close and the audience applauded generously, not knowing the exact meaning of it. Clearing her throat, with heavy eyes, Sharpay smiled weakly.

"I wish the two of you the best of luck," she said softly. She suddenly perked up, a facade to cover the seriousness of the situation. "Now for our next little tune, I'd like to dedicate this one to Zeke here," she blew him a kiss. "This song is called 'Cool Whip.' I don't know why."

With that, Zeke rose from the keyboard and sat on the stool next to Sharpay, bringing his guitar to his lap and playing the opening notes. Sharpay sang along, but the words didn't reach my ears.

Instead I watched as Troy, face pale as a ghost, rose from his seat and cast a hand over his face, before making his way through the crowd to the exit.

And then, through the door; he left.

"I never thought that I'd write a love song, but I guess I just wrote one," Sharpay said cheekily into the microphone. "Never thought I was that kind of person, well, I've never been so wrong." Her eyes fell on Troy's retreating back and she squeezed her eyes shut, her lyrics loosing some of their charm as she continued, dismayed that once again, in the story of Troy and I, things didn't go as planned.

---

Sitting on my bed three hours after the performance, I decided to alphabetize my CDs just as I had seen Ryan doing all those weeks ago. The pit in my stomach wasn't dissolving on it's own and I was desperate to take my mind off of Troy.

It was hardly working; he was all I could think about. The small gold horseshoe around my neck was a constant reminder of what we shared, of how close we had gotten. Bringing my hand to my lips, his kiss still lingered through it had been nearly three days since we had last seen one another. Closing my eyes, I willed the tears to go away, but it seemed useless.

I kept hoping for a knock on the door or for my phone to ring, but it seemed useless. Troy was not coming...I didn't know if he ever would speak to me again. I had, after all, thrown him for quite the loop. I had let him know that after all this time, the reason I came to New York was because of him.

It was and it wasn't, though. He was the reason I was able to take control of my life. I owed him everything.

A rustling outside the door made my head shoot up and my heart pounded in my chest excitedly. Was it Troy? I jumped off my bed, but a moment later, the door flung open and I was greeted with the sight of Sharpay and Zeke, tangled up in one another, attached at the lips.

"Gabriella," Sharpay said, pulling away from Zeke momentarily. "Leave."

"Sharpay!" I said, standing up and feeling completely put out. "No!"

"Leave, Gabriella!" she whined as Zeke lowered her onto her bed. I brought a hand to my eyes, shielding me from their...actions. "Go to Troy's room or something! We did our part, now you do yours!"

I winced and folded my arms, knowing I very well could not go there. "Sharpay, you know..."

"Gabriella, go, please?" Zeke pleaded, removing himself from his position at Sharpay's neck. "We're sorry the song didn't have the affect we desired, but everyone can see you're miserable without each other. Troy's been down in the dumps and just...just go."

"I'm not leaving," I said, planting my feet firmly on the ground. "I refuse."

Sharpay groaned in aggravation and pushed Zeke off of her. Standing up from her bed, she placed her hands on her shoulders and shoved me towards the door. "I know you're having issues," she said, "But go work them out or watch TV or something!"

With that, she flung the door closed in my face and I was left standing in the hallway in my soft pink tracksuit and bright yellow Homer Simpson slippers.

What was I going to do now? The common room was crowded, the whiteboard on Ryan's door informed me that he was out for the evening and there was no way I was going to Troy's. That left Taylor's dorm, but there was only a fifty percent chance she was there and not at the library as she usually was. Well, it was a chance I was willing to take and with one last glance at my door, I began walking down the hall to her dorm room.

Not only did I possibly ruin the best thing that ever happened to me, but I had just been kicked out of my dorm room. To add insult to the injury, upon arriving at Taylor's dorm room, her room mate informed me that she was indeed down at the library.

Could things get any worse? Walking down the hall, a familiar sign caught my eye.

**Fire escape.**

Well, it was better than standing here looking like an idiot. Pulling open the door, I ascended the stairs one at a time, remembering the first time I climbed them so many months ago.

Stepping outside, the cold December air hit my skin and I shivered involuntarily. Scanning the New York scenery, I sighed, realizing how much had changed.

I had stood here so many weeks ago, looking out and feeling absolutely terrified. Feeling completely and entirely alone and lost. I was ready to pack my bags and leave the city all together. I was ready to give up.

Troy had changed all that. He had followed me up here and told me to stay. And I listened. I really did owe him everything.

And I had thrown it away. In my panic that I would lose everything in not telling him, I had done just that. I should have never told him, as selfish as that was, for it would have kept him with me. He cared about me and I...I just threw it all away.

The crunch of gravel behind me made me jump and I turned around slowly. When my eyes fell on the figure standing there, my mouth fell open and my heart leapt in my mouth, my stomach doing somersaults.

It was Troy.

I looked down at my slippers, feeling out of place and awkward. "Hey," I said softly.

"Hey," he replied, going to sit down on the bench that was still situated on the other side of the roof. I watched him from the corner of my eye. "Did you want to be alone?"

I shook my head. "Not really. But I can go, if you want me, too," I swallowed. "I'd understand if you'd want me to."

"No," he said, closing his eyes and leaning against the bench. "I was the one who followed you up here, not the opposite."

Folding my arms over my chest, I shivered slightly. "Yeah, well, I was the one who..." his eyes shot open suddenly and he stared at me, "Well, you know..."

"Yeah," Troy said, looking back down. My heart sunk at the awkwardness between us and I felt the tears welling in my eyes. My mouth opened to speak before I could stop it and the words poured out of my mouth in a rushed, frenzied confession.

"I just want you to know," I began, swallowing the massive lump in my throat, "That I'm sorry. I'm sorry I opened my mouth and told you. I'm sorry that I...listened to everything you said, made you care about me and then threw that in your face. I'm sorry that I...I'm sorry that I came here for you."

"It was irrational and I really...really didn't know what I was doing. You were my escape, my reason. You allowed me to take control of my life, take it by the reins, do the opposite of what was planned for me. I had a chance and I grabbed it. It wasn't that you were the excuse, but you were the leeway, the in I needed to really start living my life. And with you, Troy, that's exactly what i was able to do. I'm sorry that I ruined it all and I'm sorry that I did it because it probably scares and creeps you out and I've ruined everything we built."

"Gabriella," he tried to cut in, but I held up my hand, silencing him.

"No," I said, my lower lip quivering. "Troy, please don't. I just...I want you to know that the person I thought you were? The person I was so infatuated with all those years in high school? He's nothing in comparison to who you really are."

He stiffened and I continued, the tears falling from my eyes freely onto my burning cheeks, the cool air making them sting. "You are...you're amazing, Troy. You are ridiculously childish about things like refrigerators and coffee and you make me smile just by stringing a few words together. You're determined and you're smart and you're proud. You try so hard to make others happy and yet you still try to, no, _are able_ to stay true to yourself. You're adventurous and spontaneous and you...you helped me _live_, Troy."

The tears blurred my vision so I couldn't see him and I hiccuped, my heart pounding in my chest. "The version of you that I was infatuated with in high school, that version of you was great, Troy. But the real you that I was...that I _am_ falling in love with...he's so, so much more."

Looking down, seeing my stupid slippers staring back up at me, I began to walk away, hugging myself tighter. "I just...I wanted you to know that. I'm sorry we never really...never really got the chance to explore it and it's all my fault."

I walked hurriedly towards the exit, but a strong grasp on my wrist propelled me backwards. I turned and faced Troy, whose eyes met mine. I shuddered.

Bringing his hands up to cup my face, he wiped away the tears that had gathered on my face. He swallowed before opening his mouth and beginning to speak.

"I hate seeing you cry," he said softly, looking down. "Right now, seeing you so upset, seeing you in so much pain...it makes me hate myself because you're crying because of me. You don't deserve to cry, Gabriella, especially not over me. You're a million things that I can't even describe because I'm not eloquent to do so."

His thumb traced soft circles on my skin as he continued. "Please, please stop crying," he begged. "I can't stand it. Just like I couldn't stand to see you up at that podium on graduation, pouring your heart out and no one giving you a chance."

I looked at him, shocked, but his eyes were still fixed on the ground. "Chad wasn't lying when he said that we talked about you all summer. We did. You were our hero, but Gabriella..._Gabi_, to me, you were so much more."

"I meant what I said in your yearbook. I watched you all the time, in passing, of course, and damn, I know it makes me sound like such a creeper, but it's true. You were so quiet and yet seemed so brilliant that I always wanted to know what was beneath the surface. You know about the incident with the blood drive; that was only the tip of the iceberg."

"I'm not saying that I was...I was infatuated with you, but I guess I sort of was, I, I mean--I...I knew that you were something special, but more I felt that I wasn't worthy of such a thing in my life. I was Troy Bolton, the basketball super-jock. I wasn't anything special."

"Troy," I peeped in, "That's not true, you---"

"Let me finish, Gabi," he said, biting his lip. "Up until graduation day, I was basketball super-jock Troy Bolton, ready to head to U of A just like his father had planned for him."

I scrunched my nose in confusion. "But at graduation, you said that you were going to NYU. I asked you. That's what you told me."

He licked his lips. "I know. And while that was true, it wasn't entirely." His hands fell from my face and he ran a hand through his hair anxiously before stepping away from me to look back out in the distance.

"I had gotten my acceptance to NYU months before, but I hadn't told anyone about it besides Chad. I mean, me, here? It was unheard of; suggesting that I go any other place besides U of A...it was out of the question. But it was my dream; I wanted nothing more than to come here and be my own person. Telling that to my parents, my dad especially, was a completely different situation."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "So then graduation happens and I still haven't accepted an offer for a university yet. I have my parents thinking I'm going to U of A and I have Chad pushing me to go to NYU and break the mould. And then...and then _you_ happen."

He looked at me and smiled weakly. "You step up to the podium, this girl I've seen for four years but never really known and you tell it like it is. You call everyone out on the same bullshit that they've been pulling forever. You followed your heart and did something so incredibly fucking brave."

"So I look at myself," he chuckled darkly, "And I think, I can't even tell my parents, who claim that they'll support me in anything I do, what school I really want to go to? Yet, this girl can stand up in front of over four hundred people, half of which are her peers and reveal a huge part of herself to them? I was a fucking coward compared to you."

He met my eyes again and frowned when he saw the tears still floating in them. "Please, Gabi, don't cry."

"I wasn't brave, Troy," I whispered. "I was anything but."

"No, you were. You really, really were," he insisted. "So then you crash into me and you ask me to sign your yearbook and all I could think was, this is the only chance I will ever get to tell this girl how incredible I think what she just did was. How...completely amazing it was. How much it got me thinking. So I wrote what I wrote. Then you asked me where I was going to school and I told you NYU, because in the five minutes we spent together and the five I heard you speak, you inspired me. You made me believe that it was possible to do what I wanted and when I got home, I told my parents I wanted to come here and not U of A."

"It was the worst discussion I ever had with my parents, but it was worth it," he smiled again, still weakly but somewhat stronger this time. "So, in a different way...I came to New York because of you, too, Gabi."

"I don't care if you followed me here or came here for me or what. I don't care if you'd follow me down the hall or around the corner or to Japan and back. All that I want, Gabi, is to hold your hand along the way and every once in a while, for you to want me to follow you, too."

Our eyes met and I stepped over to him in three quick strides.

Then, I kissed him.

He responded back quickly, deepening the kiss. His tongue grazed my bottom lip and I opened my mouth eagerly, my fingers twining themselves in his hair, pulling him closer. All the hurt, all the confusion, pain and above all, the growing feeling that could turn to love between us clashed in a furious battle of lips, tongue and teeth.

His hands came to my waist and he pulled me even closer. I kissed him hard and he kissed me harder. I never felt so alive as I did in that moment.

Pulling back, desperately out of breath, his hands left my waist and he clasped my hands in his own, lacing our fingers and squeezing. Then he leaned forward and gently, ever so intimately, kissed the wetness on my cheeks.

"Never cry over me again," he said between kisses. "I won't allow it."

I felt a sob erupt in my throat and I let go of his hands, throwing my arms around him. He held me against him tightly before leaning down to whisper in my ear.

"I'm falling in love with you, Gabi," he whispered huskily and I squeezed him harder.

"I'm falling in love with you, too," I pulled back ever so slightly and peppered kisses to his face. "You have no idea how much."

"I do," he said softly. "Believe me, I do."

The winter air was biting and bitter, but standing in Troy's arms, I was warm.

"_That's all I wanna do, is follow you. Sometimes I think I'd follow you anywhere."_

_-Felicity Porter_

---

Okay, so while writing this I debated for a long while about the concept of extending this story by one more chapter and letting the tension between the two of them drag on a little bit longer. However, after much thought and consideration, I decided not to.

In 'Felicity', the thing that bothered me about the show more than anything was that she followed a boy to New York and upon arrival promptly tells him so and despite an awkward encounter later, he accepts it and the two immediately start a friendship. To me, that never seemed realistic so in this portrayal, I decided to convey it more realistically.

That is to say that from Gabi's confession, I do not believe the two of them would have to start over in the long run, especially since Troy's reasons were similar to Gabi's. After all that they've been through, to have them dance around each other even longer than they already have and truly not understand where the other was coming from would be cruel and unrealistic in my eyes as the author. :)

SO YES. The epilogue of sorts chapter is our next and final chapter. :)

BTW: I just saw Watchmen and it was kind of awesome. Go see it.


	20. You Suddenly Complete Me

---

**The Distance Between Us**

_Chapter Twenty: You Suddenly Complete me_

---

_Three Weeks Later_

"So do you really think we're ready for this trip?" Troy asked. "I mean, this train ride is going to be lengthy and we're not going to have the comfort of my iPod to guide us through the hours."

I smiled and leaned into him as we walked along the chilly streets of New York, hand in hand. We had ventured to the local K-Mart to gather supplies for our journey from New York to Albuquerque for Christmas break. We had decided (more like my parents and I insisted) that we travel back by train, much to Troy's dismay. The trip was only a day long. Troy, however, was making it seem like it was going to take light-years to get there.

"Troy, it's not _that_ long of a train ride," I said, squeezing his hand. "It will definitely take less time than that road trip of ours."

Troy blushed. The memory of the road trip that he had concocted still made him embarrassed, and I was only endeared to it even more.

"Yeah, well," he stuttered, "That is completely besides the point."

I chuckled. "It won't be that bad," I insisted. "At least we'll be together."

Troy grinned, pausing in the middle of the street to look at me closely. "That's true. I'd go anywhere with you."

I blushed at his words. Though we had been together nearly a month now, it was still odd to hear such sweet sentiments fall from his mouth. I couldn't help but want to record them all so I could play them later and never forget the tone of his voice when he said it.

"Is that so?" I teased, grasping his other hand and resting my chin on his chest, looking up at him. "Would you even go to Saturn with me? It takes over three and a half years to get there."

Troy grinned. "Definitely."

"You wouldn't get sick of me?"

He shook his head. "Never. As long as it was only you and me, of course." He kissed me on the forehead gently and we continued walking down the street.

Finals had approached quicker than we had ever expected and we had spent the better half of the last two weeks hauled up in one another's dorm rooms, drinking coffee and Red Bull obsessively, silently flipping through our textbooks anxiously, pausing only to ask each other questions.

Okay, that was a lie. At one point our books had been abandoned for something a little more physical, but I couldn't help it. Kissing Troy, touching him and breathing him in was so intoxicating and he was finally, well, all mine. After all these years of longing, I was his _girlfriend_. He was my _boyfriend_. Our _Facebook_ profiles even said so. The very thought made a shiver of excitement run through me.

Somehow, though, we got through the excruciating mess that was finals and were headed back for Christmas break. It was comforting, exciting and almost a little sad that we were leaving New York, but knowing we would be back in no time made it all the better.

"My mom can't wait to see you," Troy said, swinging our hands back and forth. "She keeps asking about you, how you are, how your finals went," he scrunched up his face. "She even asked about you before she asked about me. Chad, too, he can't wait to see you again."

I smiled brightly. Troy's mom had apparently been ecstatic when Troy had told her we were an item, stating that she was glad he had taken her words seriously and changed our relationship status before we returned.

"Chad and I have been talking online," I said, smiling. "He got you a pretty cool gift for Christmas."

Troy's eyebrows shot up. "Wanna tell me what it is?"

I shook my head and brought a finger to my lip. "Nope. It's a secret!"

"Ah, Gabi," Troy whined. "Come on!"

I was about to retort, when a building caught my eye. It was brick with green awnings. Peering inside, it seemed to be a coffee-shop or a bakery. "Hey," I paused, tugging on Troy's hand, "Want go to get coffee?" I looked up at the building in front of us. He cocked his head to the side.

"Here?" he asked hesitantly. "Can't we just go to Jenny's?"

I pulled him towards the window and peered in closer. "It's miles away and this place is right here!" I glanced at the sign. "_Dean and Deluca_. Why did have we never been here before? It's right near the dorms."

"Um, because it's really white inside? And looks expensive?" Troy quipped and I shot him a look, dropping his hand. Peering in closely, I surveyed the area. Customers seemed to be mulling about, drinking coffee and chatting. I looked up at the counter, where a girl with long, curly brown hair was placing heart shaped cookies on a tray.

From behind her, a boy with cropped blonde hair appeared and said something to her. Her brows furrowed in annoyance and she turned around to retort. The conversation seemed to get heated as her body language stiffen and he threw his hands up.

"Gabi," Troy began slowly. "Are you seriously watching those people argue?"

"Sh!" I said, intrigued by what I saw. The girl seemed small, but full of determination. Her thin lips set in an angry line and she stood there, defiantly in front of the boy as he glared down at her. A short, plump bald man with black rimmed sunglasses with neon yellow lenses appeared and reprimanded the two, pressing a hand to his forehead in what appeared to be general despair. The two dispersed, glaring at each other once more. In the wake of their argument, a displeased line of customers had formed.

"On second thought," I said. "Let's just go to Jenny's."

"What?" Troy asked, looking back into the cafe. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, turning away from the building. There was something about it, something about the guy and the girl arguing that made my stomach lurch. It was like seeing an old aunt who you were not particular;y fond of, but smiled at anyways. It was unsettling and yet comfortable all at the same time.

"Yeah," I laced our fingers together again. "Let's go home."

---

Later that day, I was sitting on the love-seat at Jenny's, Troy on my right, our fingers intertwined and resting in his lap. Sharpay and Zeke shared an armchair, she sitting comfortably on his lap while Taylor said next to me on my left.

"Is there anything super specific that you guys wanted for Christmas?" Taylor asked excitedly, sipping her hot chocolate. I shrugged as did Troy.

"I don't know," I said. "Money would be nice."

Troy nodded in agreement. "That actually sounds pretty damn good. I mean, we can only get so far with what we have."

"Oh, please," Sharpay scoffed. "You guys are just all, 'we have everything we want for Christmas because have each other' in your heads, aren't you?" She smirked. "Don't lie, I can see it in your eyes. You guys are all over each other."

Troy and I flushed. "Shut up, Sharpay," I muttered.

She stuck out her tongue. "Gabriella, you're just upset because I called you and your boyfriend out on your bullshit." She frowned. "It's no longer insulting now that it's true," she said, annoyed. "God, you two would be so nauseating if I had been rooting for you to get together all this time."

"You know what I'd like?" Zeke said suddenly, staring off into the corner. "I want a cat this Christmas."

Sharpay looked down at him from her perch on his lap. "A cat? Why in the world would you want that?"

Zeke smiled. "Cats are fluffy and clever and conniving and temperamental..." he paused. "Kind of like you." She smacked him in the head and he continued. "But I don't know, they just seem like fun. I just want a cat."

"Why am I dating you again?" Sharpay asked plainly and Zeke brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

"That's why," he replied and she smiled genuinely, leaning down to peck his lips.

"You know what I want?" Taylor asked loudly. "I want a boyfriend so I can stop being the fifth wheel of this little group dynamic." She sighed and leaned against the couch. "Seriously cramping my style."

"You know, Taylor," Troy said mischievously. "I have a single friend."

Taylor's eyes lit up. "You do?"

He nodded. "His name is Chad. Plays basketball, majoring in business. Kind of awesome."

"When can I meet him?" she asked excitedly and I whacked Troy in the arm.

"Taylor, he lives in Albuquerque," I said and her face fell. "But you could always try the online thing."

Taylor scoffed. "I'm not that desperate."

"So you admit that you're desperate then?" Sharpay cracked and Taylor glared at her.

I rolled my eyes and leaned my head against Troy's shoulder. "I'm gonna miss you guys," I said softly. "Bickering and all. A month feels like an awful long time to be apart from each other." They looked at me and nodded.

"It's only for a little while," Zeke said, smiling. "Imagine what it's gonna be like over summer. I hate having to leave this place."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm not going anywhere. Sucks to be you guys."

Sharpay threw a piece of cookie at her and we laughed. I felt comforted instantly, amazed that I was able to create such a concrete group of friends, of people who genuinely liked me and I liked in return. It hadn't always been a smooth ride, thinking back to Sharpay and I's early relationship, but it was worth it.

It was more than worth it.

---

Sitting on the top of my suitcase, I tried desperately to pull my zipper all the way around. Cramming a month's worth of clothes inside was proving to be increasingly difficult and I groaned, aggravated.

I was heading home again, to good old Albuquerque for at least a month. It was a weird thought to think I wouldn't see the beauty of New York for what seemed like forever, but at the same time, I wasn't say goodbye, just a 'I'll see you later.'

It was funny. Standing in this room for the first time I had felt so scared, so petrified, yet excited at the prospects this city held for me. Now I had made a permanent groove in the city, a permanent wedge and I knew regardless of anything that would happen to me, New York would always be home.

A knock at the door drew me out of my thoughts and I yelled that it was open. Troy revealed himself to be on the other side, smiling brightly, dressed to go with his bags outside my door. He leaned against the doorframe and raised his eyebrows at me.

"Well, aren't you quite the sight?" he smirked and I rolled my eyes.

"Can you maybe possibly lend me a hand?" I asked, gesturing to my overflowing suitcase. "Because at this rate, I'll never be able to get this thing closed and we'll miss the train."

Troy shrugged, not budging from his spot at the door. "You mean you'll miss the train. I'll simply leave without you."

I glared. "You wouldn't dare."

Chuckling slightly, Troy propped himself off the door and walked forward me. He bent his head towards mine so I could feel the heat radiating off of him. His blue eyes sparkled when they met mine and he leaned forward and kissed me languidly, softly before pulling away and resting his forehead against mine.

"You're right," he breathed. "Cause then I wouldn't get to do this."'

I blushed and wrapped my arms around his neck, cuddling into him. "This train ride is going to take forever," I whined. "I may fall asleep and use you as my personal cushion."

Troy nuzzled my neck, laughing. "I wouldn't mind that too much," He pulled back and stared at me, placing kisses on my face. "God," he said, pecking me on the nose. "I'm so glad we both live in Albuquerque. I don't know what I'd do if I had to wait a month before we got back here to see you."

I giggled, ticklish under his touch. "I don't even want to think about it." Smiling, I gestured to my suitcase. "Wanna help me zip this up so we can get going?" I asked and he nodded, leaning over me to grasp the zipper.'

"Okay," he said, "On the count of three, you jump up and when you land, I'll zip it. Okay?"

I nodded and he counted to three before I bounced on the lid, forcing my weight down. In one swift motion, Troy zipped up the suitcase before grinning proudly.

"We make a good team, Gabi," he said, pecking me on the lips once more. He offered his hand to me. "Now let's get going before we miss this train and in the process, ruin our lives."

I laughed and grabbed his hand, enlacing our fingers and squeezing gently. A rush of butterflies swept through me when he squeezed back.

Something caught my eye and I stopped, Troy pausing with me. A bright red book was sitting on top of my dresser and I looked over at it.

"What's up?" Troy asked, looking at me confused. I led him over and carefully, I picked up the object. It was my yearbook.

"I don't know what this is doing out here," I said, looking at it strangely. I thought I shoved it back into my closet."

"So," Troy let out a breath. "This is what started it all."

I nodded, swallowing. "Yep," I said. "This would be it. Though, I, um, kind of ripped out the inscription when I got upset at you."

Troy shrugged. "Doesn't matter. What matters is what I wrote in there. God, I'm glad high school's over; it was awful." He pressed a kiss to my jaw. "I never really thought I'd get a chance with you, Gabi."

I sighed. "Same goes for me." I looked at the book and turned it over in my hands, then, glancing at Troy once more, I picked it up and dropped it in the trash-can next to my desk.

"It's time to move on," I said, smiling gently. "We're not who we were in high school."

Troy kissed me gently and led me towards the door. "And thank god for that."

As we stepped out of my dorm room and I locked it behind me and gathered our belongings, I couldn't help but grin. Our hands never let go of each others in the process, remaining intertwined. Looking down at them, and then at Troy beside me, I couldn't help but think how miraculous it was.

Here I was, leaving New York City, the place I had called home for the last six months. Never in a million years did I think I would even visit here. I had always set myself up for sunny California, yet here I was, about to brave the wintery cold of New York.

I was leaving the dorm room where I had created a bond with a girl who was so different from me that we were exactly the same. Where her boyfriend and she wrote beautiful, touching music; where they had worked to try and hand me happiness at one point. I was leaving the school where I had met another girl who shared the same values, the same goals that I did. I was walking by the room of the R.A. who had given me such wonderful, perfect advice.

Yet I was holding the hand of someone else entirely. This beautiful, bashful, charming, excitable, childish, brilliant boy with blue eyes and messy brown hair. I was walking alongside Troy Bolton, someone who had been such a strong, prominent part of my past and my dreams

Stepping into the elevator, still holding onto his hand, I turned to look at Troy only to find his eyes on me. I didn't smile, but searched his face, the features I had grown to memorize and love.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," I replied, still searching his face.

He leaned in and I met him halfway and as our lips met and the elevator door closed, I realized that Troy, who had been such a huge part of my past and dreams had grown not only to be a part of my reality...

But a part of my future as well.

"_Sometimes it's the smallest decisions that can pretty much change your life forever."_

_- Felicity Porter_

---

I hope you all caught my final homage to Felicity.

Oh my god it's finished. It feel so surreal and typing those last words...I can't even...whoa.

This took me so long because I truly did not have the heart to see it end. This has been such a wonderful journey for me. This is the first time I have written something of this length and honestly, I never thought I'd get here. Yet I have and I have so many people to thank.

To each and every single person who reviewed, positively or negatively, be it here on FF, or Livejournal, Zac or Van's Fanforum or Zanessa Forever, I thank you so, so very much. Your words are brilliant and so strongly encouraging and they are truthfully what kept me motivated and going. I never expected the response I received for this and I am so very, very touched that I got any response at all. To anyone that added the story to their favourites, thank you. You rock my socks.

To ZA Angels for featuring the story as Fic of the Week in January. Never thought that would happen.

To my mom, for reading and listening to me ramble. To all my teachers, whose off beat personalities inspired every one of Gabriella's professors and to everyone else in my life who inspired a scene or a conversation, thank you.

Most of all, to my best friend, Jacqui, for listening oh so patiently all those days. For reading each and every single chapter and giving me detailed feedback each time. For caring about Troy and Gabi and being as emotionally invested in them as I am. For actually taking an interest in something that you otherwise wouldn't care about at all just because I like it, thank you. I am so, so lucky to have you in my life and this story wouldn't be possible without you.

So, the future?

A couple of questions regarding a sequel: at the moment, there are no plans. The story was a tale of Troy and Gabriella's gradual change in relationship and I don't know if there's anything more to tell. (They lived very happily after, in case you're wondering. Gabi became a pediatrician and Troy went into teaching, though I'm not sure which subject. They broke up once in their third year for about seven months before getting back together over the summer in Albuquerque. They eventually got married and reside in New York, and I can only see that far into their future.) So yes, no sequel. The scenes from Troy's perspective are being tweaked and will be up sometime during the week. A link will be available on my profile and it will be known when to look for it when I post my new fic, which will be centered around Kelsi. So if you don't even want to read it, you may still have to check it out just for the link. :)

Thank you everyone. It's been amazing.


	21. Bonus

Surprise!

---

**The Distance Between Us**

---

Magic, I was quickly learning, seemed to be everywhere. As a child growing up, my mother would read me tales of fantasy, of princesses with hair long enough to be climbed, of princes turned to beasts and of boys who lived in cupboards under the stairs who were secretly wizards. Each tale grew more elaborate, more detailed and more beautiful.

Magic was like spun sugar, like spun gold. Beauty and glitter covered every surface of it, no matter whether it was used for good or evil. To think that something so...so different, so dramatic and so unheard of was possible was truly one of the most wonderful things I ever encountered.

It should be noted that, as a child, I spent my days dreaming of magic. Of dreaming of dragons and taking cats and poisoned apples. I cried all day when I turned eleven and no letter from Hogwarts appeared in my mailbox. How could I not? Magic, while impossible, seemed obtainable. It seemed like something that was at the edge of everything, gripped by everyone's fingertips as it slipped away. So to discover that the chances of it really existing in real life, that it was actually tangible, were slim to none were devastating.

But I grew up. The world grew grittier, more raw. Something took my father away and with it, went the few friends I had and before I knew it, I was in high school and alone. Magic was stripped from the cold walls of the school, magic wasn't acceptable. I was a teenager, god forbid I believe in something as ridiculous as fairytales and Dumbledore. Not that I ever truly cared what students thought about me, but if there ever came a day where I did, where I was suddenly popular and exciting, I certainly didn't want something like that to be revealed.

So I let magic go.

It's funny, that I ended up embracing music when I was older, nineteen to be exact, and in university. Surely by then, by society's weird standards, I should have been completely over it. But in my mind, society had never fallen in love.

Society must have never experienced the magic of falling in love.

My love story, the romance I was embodied in, was a peculiar one. It should be known right now that I'm not a rash, smart person. In fact, I'm the complete opposite. Last year, I rearranged my life, changed my life plans because a boy wrote some silly words in my yearbook.

Well, that's mean, the words were far from being silly. In fact they were wonderful words and I will always look back on them fondly. But it was this boy, this boy with this gigantic, golden heart who caused me to follow him thousands of miles from Albuquerque all the way to New York. I was in love with him, this magical boy, and it was like I would stop at nothing to see if there was a chance (no matter how small) that he was in love with me, too.

Crazy right? To anyone else, if they had discovered that this person who barely knew them by anything other than name followed them across the country, because of something written in a yearbook...well, that's what they would think. Then they would slap a restraining order on your doorstep and call it a day.

Not this boy. Not Troy. Even still, you would never fathom that he would instead turn around and love you back.

But he did. It was thanks to Troy that I was able to experience this ultimate magic, this magic of falling and being in love. We had been together for nearly a year now, an amazing, practically perfect year. I had never been happier. The Christmas we spent together was magical, the Valentine's Day, the summer.

Everything with Troy was magic, I thought, as I clutched his hand in my right and a box in my left. We were on a mission, trying desperately to find my new dorm-room sometime before midnight. Goddard Hall was still the same as always, but as sophomores, we were now on different floors. The fantastic summer we had spent in Albuquerque together had passed and now it was back to school. Back to the grindstone.

At least we had each other and things were looking up. We appeared to have found my room.

"So," Troy said, setting a box down on the floor by the door, "this is your new dorm room."

I glanced around at the wide open space. The room was about the same size as the one I had shared with Sharpay last year, but it wasn't nearly as bright. The windows were smaller and facing away from the sun instead of directly in front of it. This made me frown. The standard two twin beds, two desks and chairs were on each side of the room. While it was a surprise, I was pleased to see that the other side of the room was not yet occupied.

"Looks like," I said, setting down my suitcases and placing my hands on my hips. Which to choose, which to choose? "It appears that I get first pick of beds."

Troy came and stood beside me, nodding in agreement. "Looks like you do. I would choose carefully. This kind of decision could impact your entire life."

"Obviously," I answered, pacing back and forth. "What's your opinion?"

"Well," Troy deliberated, bringing a hand to his chin in thought and I giggled. Gosh, he would never stop being adorable to me. "I think it all depends on the bed, really."

I raised my eyebrows. "The bed? Really now?" I took a step closer to him, wrapping a hand around his neck. "Why is that?"

Wrapping his hands around my waist, he pulled me closer to him so that I was flush against his chest and smiled down at me. "There's several deciding factors. I mean, as a student, you're going to need to get a lot of sleep to be in prime mental shape for all these medical lectures you've got coming up."

"Oh, yes indeed," I said with a smirk and a giggle, "I mean, we couldn't have me falling asleep in the middle of class, now could we?"

"Of course not!" Troy said with a shake of his head. "And how comfortable your mattress is plays a big part in that."

"Yes it does," I agreed, "but is that all?"

I felt his fingertips drum along my lower back before slipping beneath the fabric of my long sleeved t-shirt. The smooth pads of his fingers skimmed along my bare skin and I shuddered involuntarily, his touch making my face hot. He dipped his head down and pressed soft kisses to my jawline.

"Not exactly," Troy said coyly, "I mean, your bed is good more than just sleeping."

"Oh, really?" I asked, dragging my hand up the skin of his neck to entwine my fingers in his hair. "Like what?"

"Oh, you know," he began, running his lips over to land on my lips. He kissed me then, gently, pulling my bottom lip in between his teeth. "It's good for other...activities."

With that I attached my lips more firmly to his and kissed him back eagerly Kissing Troy had long ago become one my favourite pastimes and I would eagerly take part in it whenever I could.

Right now seemed like a good time.

Troy walked me backwards and we staggered on our feet, laughing as we tried to stay connected and not fall over at the same time. We moved until my shins hit the end of the bed on the left side of the room and I tumbled backwards, my back hitting the mattress and Troy flopping down on top of me. His weight knocked the breath out of me slightly, but still we did not pull away, instead only climbed up the bed further so we were laying down across it length wise and he could arrange himself on top of me more comfortably.

"You know," I said as we broke for air and he began to scatter wet, open mouthed kisses onto my neck as I fiddled with the button on his plaid shirt. "I think I like this bed?"

"Oh?" he asked, lifting his head up from the crook of my neck to meet my lips again. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," I said with a giggle as we met halfway for another kiss. "I think so."

"Nah," Troy said, nipping at my mouth, "you're just too lazy to go test out the other one."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, swatting him playfully. "I can't help it if I'm comfortable here!"

Troy laughed, his blue eyes sparkling. "Hey, I'm all for this side of the room," he said, his hand shimmying up the hem of my shirt again. His fingers danced along the expanse of my stomach and I squirmed beneath him. "I think it'll suit us just fine."

I cocked an eyebrow, allowing the flush to spread across my cheeks at his insinuation. "Us?"

"Yes," he breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "us. I feel like we are going to get a lot of use out of this bed this year. Sleeping and otherwise."

"Oh stop," I said, leaning up and pecking his lips before shoving him off of me. He rolled over onto his back with a chuckle and slid his arm around my waist, pulling me over to him. I snuggled my head onto his chest and sighed. "Gosh, we're sophomores this year. We survived freshmen year."

Troy snorted. "You make it sound like we're in high school."

I pretended to shudder violently. "No, never again, I am done with high school. Still, we're making our way up. Before you know it we'll be seniors."

"That is if we make it," Troy said cheekily, turning us on our sides. "They say that the sophomore slump is an uphill battle."

I scrunched my nose. "Says who, Jason Mraz?"

Troy smirked. "Maybe," he said as his hand rand down my side to rest of my thigh, where he began drawing little circles with his fingers. I removed his hand and climbed back on top of him so I could use him as a pillow.

"Stop that," I said bashfully, my face hot. I pressed my cheek to his clothed chest, right below his heartbeat and listened. It was the most comforting sound in the world, even in mundane times like these. "My new roommate will be here soon."

Troy let out a sigh, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to rest his hand between my shoulder blades. "It's so weird that you're not rooming with Sharpay," he murmured, looking up at the ceiling. "Whose going to walk in on us now?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Someone new, I guess. I can't believe she decided to become an RA."

Sharpay had called me many times over the summer and we had had previous plans to room together again. However, three weeks ago she had rang to announce that sorry, she was following her in dear brother's footsteps and becoming a good old resident advisor.

As sorry as I felt for the poor kids who were now going to be subjected to Sharpay's advice, I was kind of feeling more sorry for myself. Now I was stuck with a new roommate. I had gotten so used to living with Sharpay here, that the thought of having to live with someone new entirely kind of scared me. I had tried to persuade Taylor into being my roommate, but she had denied it, saying that living together always ruined friendships. So instead I was going to be living with someone the university picked at random.

Oh joy.

Of course, there was a certain someone I wouldn't have minded rooming with at all, but apparently they weren't keen on co-ed living arrangements here.

Troy laughed, his chest vibrating underneath my cheek. "Oh god, those poor kids. She's gonna eat them alive."

I smiled to myself at the thought. "Yeah, no kidding. I wish I could be around to witness some of it."

"Why would you want that?" Troy shuddered. "It'd be like watching a lion eat a poor baby lamb."

I shifted in his arms, looking up at him. "What?"

"You know," Troy said, his voice suddenly very, very small. "The tiny little fluffy lamb, all sweet and innocent. And the bam! The big scary, vicious lion shreds it into a bloody, pink mess! There's screaming! There's crying! The shrill, fading sound of bah...bah...bah."

I lifted my head, resting my chin on his breastbone and shared at him. "You are officially crazy."

"And you love it," Troy slipped his fingers under my chin and pulled me up for a kiss. I responded back, breathlessly, and before we knew it, my hands were buried in his hair and he had me pinned beneath him.

So of course the door flew open.

We sprang apart and I pushed Troy off of me so suddenly that he fell off the bed and onto the floor with a thump. I burst into giggles and looked at him writhing on the ground.

"Oops!" I said, pressing a hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter. "You okay down there?"

All I got in response was a groan, so I hopped off the bed and glanced across the room to see a girl standing there. She had long black hair, was wearing all black clothes and had a large array of facial piercings. I swallowed.

"Um, hi!" I said brightly, "I'm Gabriella. You must be my roommate."

She stared back at me. "Bethany," she quirked an eyebrow at Troy, "that your boyfriend?"

I nodded as Troy came to stand beside me. He enlaced his fingers with my own and extended his other hand to Bethany, smiling. "That would be me. I'm Troy."

"Charmed," she said blandly, before folding her arms and looking me straight in the eye. "I should let you know now that we're going to have a strict no visitor's policy."

I raised my eyebrows. "You mean at night? Oh, I understand that, I—"

"No, I mean no visitors ever," she said harshly, dumping her heavy black duffle bags on the bed on the other side of the room.

I blinked. "Ever?"

"Yes," she said simply, "ever. He is not to be in here ever. So," she waved her hand at Troy, "get out."

"Hey!" Troy protested, "I was here first!"

"Are you assigned to this dorm?" Bethany said stiffly. Troy bit his lip.

"Well, no, but—"

"Then get out," she said, gritting her teeth. "I am going to go finish getting my stuff. It is waiting in the car outside for me. By the time I get back, you had better be gone."

With that, she walked out the door and slammed it shut. I winced.

"Well," I said, feeling aggravated. "This year will be interesting."

"Hey," Troy said, standing up from his spot at my desk. "Maybe it won't be so bad. Remember what a nightmare Sharpay was in the beginning?"

"Sharpay liked pink," I said slowly, "this girl is a goth. Things are going to be vastly different." I sighed loudly. "So much for this year being good to us."

"Hey," Troy said, bringing his arms up to run across my shoulders and arms. "This year will be great to us. I'm rooming with Zeke again and you are welcome to stay anytime you want. He won't mind."

I smiled up at him. "You're just saying that because as an RA, Sharpay has a single and therefore, Zeke will be spending all of her time in his room."

Troy grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "Something I am wholeheartedly in agreement with. Anyways, I gotta go. Gotta go scope out my own new living place. But I'll call you when Chad gets here and the three of us can go over to Jenny's. Sound good?"

"Sounds great," I ran my thumb over his knuckles and stood on my tip-toes to press a kiss to his lips. "I'll see you later."

"Later, Gabi," Troy said softly, bending down and kissing my nose. He turned to leave, his hand on the doorknob, before he turned around and smiled brightly at me. "Love you."

My heart felt like it was going to explode at his words. No matter how many times we said it, no matter how much time went by, I was thinking it was always going to feel like the first time. Like it was always going to set my heart ablaze.

"Love you, too," I said almost shyly as he slipped out the door. Sighing, I turned on my heel and glanced at the scary amount of black belongings Bethany had brought with her.

It was going to be an interesting year.

---

Chad had excitedly called Troy two days later, announcing that his semester was set to begin later than he had expected and would Troy perhaps like a visitor for a couple of days? Naturally, Troy had agreed, even though the pair had spend a good majority of the summer working together. So Chad was set to arrive that afternoon and then he was going to go to all the usual haunts with us, the first stop being Jenny's.

And at Jenny's, I had a surprise for him.

Dear Taylor Mckessie was still single and very miserable about single. Chad was still single and could frankly use a gal like Taylor. So I figured, why not set up a little meet and greet? Troy, however, disagreed with me.

Later that day, we all were planning to meet at Jenny's and Troy had repeatedly expressed his hesitance at the idea.

"You really don't want to do this, Gabi," he had said over the phone as I walked to Jenny's, "I know I suggested it like, months ago, and Taylor seemed willing, but since then I have gotten to know her and they are not compatible."

"Troy," I said, stepping in Jenny's, "since then I've gotten to know Chad and I think it's a great idea. So why not?"

"If I do recall correctly, you were the one who thought it was a dumb idea when I suggested it," he said, "what changed?"

"I have a different view on romance now," I said nonchalantly, ordering a latte from Jenny and then flopping down on the soft leather couch. "So I will see you soon and we will see where this goes."

"If they start being violent, I'm blaming you," he chortled and I laughed.

"Where are you anyways?" I asked.

I could practically hear him smirk through the phone. "You could say I'm nearby."

"Oh really?" I said, glancing around the cafe. "Is that so—" I paused mid-sentence, seeing his figure right outside the door. He smiled at me through the glass and hung up his phone before walking inside.

"Hey, Gabi," Troy said, walking towards me before leaning down and pecking my lips in greeting.

"Hey," I said, pulling back and holding onto his shirt as I glanced around him. "Where's—"

Then from outside the door, a curly head of hair appeared out of nowhere. He grinned and waved as he walked inside.

"Chad!" I exclaimed brightly, standing up to wrap my arms around him.

"Gabster!" he said happily, hugging me back. "God, it's good to see you!"

"You, too!" I said, sitting back on the couch. Troy sat on the cushion next to me and his arm came to wrap around me and I grabbed my latte from the coffee table. "How was your flight?"

"Good!" Chad said, glancing around the coffeehouse. "Long. I sat beside a fat guy who smells. But now I'm here and I'm in New York and you guys were not kidding, it is awesome!"

Troy laughed beside me. "Yeah, we'd like to think so," he said, slipping my latte from my hands and taking a drink. I sputtered, annoyed, but he merely tapped me on the nose.

"Well, actually—"

As if on cue, Taylor stumbled into the coffee-shop, a mess of books weighing her down. She staggered over to the couch and flopped down beside me, blowing her strands of hair out of her face. "Sorry I'm late!" she said quickly. "I stopped at the school's bookstore on the way to see what I needed for this year. Apparently, too much."

I laughed, snatching my drink back from Troy. "That's okay, Tay," I said. "You didn't miss too much."

"Oh, really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Hey, Troy," she said and he waved back. Her eyes fell on Chad then, just noticing his presence. "And who is this?"

I shot Troy a look and he rolled his eyes. "This would be Troy's friend Chad. He's in town for a few days."

Chad extended his hand, grinning widely. "Nice to meet you."

Taylor, however, narrowed her eyes. "Wait, Chad as in that guy you mentioned, oh before Christmas break last year?"

Chad frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Is this the guy you suggested I have an online relationship with, Gabriella?" she asked and I could tell already that things were not going to turn out like I had expected.

I bit my lip, looking to Troy for help. He just took another sip of my drink. "Um, maybe?"

"So, wait, let me get this straight," Taylor said, "you're trying to set me up with a guy who lives across the country even though last year you cautioned me against the same thing?"

"Hey!" Chad protested, "this is a set up! I don't want to be set up with her!"

Taylor's mouth fell open. "And why not?"

"Look at how many books you're carrying!" Chad exclaimed, "I need a girl who knows how to have fun!"

"I know how to have fun!" Taylor spat, "how dare you judge me, you don't even know me, you ignorant jerk!" She took in his basketball jersey. "What are you, some lunkhead jock?"

"Oh ho!" Chad said, glaring at her. "Whose judging who now?"

"You're an idiot!"

"Um, you don't even know me!"

"I don't have time for this! I'll see you guys later," Taylor hissed, gathering her things up and starting to leave.

"No, Taylor!" I said quickly, "stay!"

"Forget it!" she snapped. "I'll see you guys later." She stocked out of the cafe, nearly falling over with the weight of her books and I frowned, leaning back into the couch, defeated.

Chad stood up as well. "Where are you going, man?" Troy asked.

"Look dude, I came to New York to get wasted and have fun with my friends. Not to be set up on some date with some psycho chick! I'm going to go wander around and I'll call you when I'm good and lost and probably in the crossfires of some drug deal."

This time, neither of protested this departure. Instead we watched silently as he left. Then there were two.

"Well that was ridiculous," I said, taking a sip of my latte. "I can't even believe that just happened."

"What?" Troy said, sounding surprised. "How could you not know that was going to happen?"

I turned and looked at him. "How was I supposed to know that they were going to bite each other's heads off?" I asked, "I thought they'd hit it off!"

Troy clicked his tongue. "And I told you they wouldn't, but you don't listen to me."

"Excuse me," I set my latte down and folded my arms. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Troy said, removing his arm from around my shoulders. "You said they were going to gel, I told you they weren't and then you meddled and now they're fighting."

"Whoa, wait!" I said, all but jumping off the couch. "I do not meddle!"

Troy snorted. "Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, Gabriella, you do," he said firmly, "you're always messing with people's lives trying to do what you think is best for them when it isn't. You meddle like an old person."

"No, I don't!" I protested, "and just because things aren't working out with Chad and Taylor now doesn't mean they won't in the future! Why are you giving up so easily?"

"I'm not," Troy spit and I could tell he was getting angry. Alarm bells were going off in my head, telling me to stop talking before things went too far. But like always with me, they words wouldn't stop and just kept falling out of my mouth.

"Yes, you are!" I threw my hands up. "You always do this. When things get rough or don't go your way, you quit."

Troy furrowed his brow. "What are you even talking about?"

"Oh, come on!" I said, "the going gets tough and you get going! You just up and quit like that! Is that your attitude, things don't work out so why bother?"

"When it's necessary, yes!" Troy said, "no sense in being ridiculous about things!"

"Why do you do that?" I asked, feeling tense, "you fuck up at basketball, it's bye bye to that. I pour my heart out to you, you freak out and don't talk to me for days!"

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I instantly regretted them. Troy stiffened before chuckling darkly and standing up. "I can't believe you just said that. I can't believe you brought that up."

"Troy," I began, panicked, "I didn't mean to bring that up, I'm sorry."

"You know," he said, looking anywhere but me, "I thought that we had moved past this. I thought after all of the bullshit, all of the yearbook drama, we were finally in a secure enough place that you would stop doubting me. Not doubting us. Yet somehow, I'm not surprised."

"Troy," I said desperately, "just hold on a minute."

"Look, I'm gonna go. Go and try to find Chad," he said briskly, "I'll call you later."

And with that he had walked out.

I slumped back on the couch in Jenny's, feeling very small and very alone. What had just happened? What had we just fought about? Troy and I never fought. Now we were fighting about something like this?

Somehow it felt deeper though and that scared me even more. Sitting alone on the big couch in Jenny's, I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried.

---

I sat in my dorm-room later that night, crying like an idiot and listening to sad music. What did this even mean? Why did I get so upset over Troy saying I meddled. I didn't meddle! Why did I throw all those things back in his face. What was wrong with me?

Sniffling, I slid off my bed and slipped on my Homer Simpson slippers—the only thing I had unpacked and thought about what to do next. Normally I would go to the rooftop, and had I felt more sentimental, I would have.

I felt someone's eyes on me and I looked up, only to find Bethany staring back. I blinked.

"What?" I asked cautiously.

Bethany stared at me blankly. "Are you crying?"

I scrubbed at my cheeks. "Maybe."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Are you asking because you care," I inquired slowly, "or are you asking because I'm bothering you."

"You're bothering me," she replied. "I didn't come here to make friends or listen to you cry over your stupid boyfriend. So please, leave."

I paused. "Wait, so I can't have friends here and now I can't cry here? In my own dorm-room? Really?"

"Yup," Bethany said and I instantly decided she was about six billion times worse than Sharpay at her bitchiest.

Sharpay! I hadn't seen her since the day before. She was now an RA...meaning she now had a single. I could go there!

"You know what," I said, standing up, "I will bring friends over whenever I want, and you can just deal!"

"No I won't," she said, arranging black throw pillows on her bed. Rolling my eyes, I opened the door and slammed it behind me before making my way down the hall and pass the common room over to Sharpay's room.

"So this is the place you're ditching me for?" I asked almost bitterly as I stepped into the large dorm room that was now Sharpay's living place. She glanced over at me, smiling as she adjusted a black and white canvas of Audrey Hepburn on her wall.

"That it is, that it is!" she said excitedly, clapping her hands as she jumped down from the step-stool. "Isn't it awesome? A whole room all to myself!"

"Yeah, it's great," I said, sniffing slightly. I couldn't get the fight with Troy out of my head, his words running on a loop through my mind. What he had said hurt, but at the same time, I couldn't help but worry if what he had said was true.

Sharpay paused, staring at me. "What's wrong?" she asked cautiously, "did you and Troy have a fight or something?"

She asked it nonchalantly, like it was the farthest thing that could happen, so when I nodded, she gasped, furrowing her brows. "Wait, you actually had a fight? You and Troy? Golden couple Troy and Gabriella? You guys never fight!"

"Hey!" I protested, slumping over on her bed. "That's not true we fight! Just...just not like this."

"Like what?" Sharpay said gently. "What happened?"

I began to relay the story of what Troy and I had fought about, stumbling over my words. About stupid Chad and Taylor and how I lashed out at him. How mean he had been. How mean I had been.

"Is it true?" I asked hesitantly. "Do I meddle?"

"Yes," Sharpay said bluntly, "you do."

My jaw dropped open. "Hey!" I said, even more hurt, "I do not!" I stood up angrily and folded my arms.

Sharpay laughed slightly, grabbing my wrist and dragging me back down to the bed. "Yes, you do," she said simply. "You did it with Ryan and I. You did it when Troy was freaking out about basketball. And you did it with Chad and Taylor."

I frowned. "It was Troy's idea almost a year ago, though! Why am I suddenly the bad one for trying to see if they clicked?"

"Because some people don't want to be forced into romance, Gabriella," Sharpay said pointedly, "you hated it when I used to even tease you about Troy. Could imagine what it would have been like had I tried to set you up?"

"Well, no," I admitted, "but that's not the point! I'm not meddling, I'm just trying to help."

"You are," Sharpay said softly, "your intentions are always good, but sometimes, people don't want help. That's when it becomes meddling." She paused and bit her lip. "Somehow, though, I think this runs a little bit deeper."

"It's just that..." I sighed. "I said some awful things. I told him that he always runs away when things get hard."

"Which he sometimes does," Sharpay agreed, "he's done that in the past. But that doesn't mean he's going to run away from you."

My head shot up and I looked at her curiously. "What?"

Sharpay wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "Just because Troy freaks out when bad things happen, when things don't go according to plan, it doesn't mean he's going to break up with you for it. It doesn't mean he'll suddenly throw everything away. You guys have been through too much, come too far for that bullshit."

"I just..." I played with the horseshoe dangling around my neck, remembering the way Troy had looked at me when he clasped it there. "I can't help it. I'm so scared that one day, it's all just going to crumble in front of my eyes, Sharpay. Sometimes things with Troy...they're so perfect. They're so wonderful. Good things can never last."

"Ah," Sharpay said, standing up and walking over to a box by the side of the room. She pulled out several picture frames and came to sit next to me again. "That's where you're wrong. This has always been the problem with you, Gabriella, you've always been so insecure about what goes on between you and Troy."

I bristled. "No I haven't."

"Yes," she said with a half smile, "you have. You were friends and you thought he'd get mad at you for a game of assassin. You spent months denying the notion that he could even have feelings for you, despite the fact that it was ridiculously apparent to everyone in the room but you. Troy loves you, I don't need to tell you that, and you need to stop worrying and start living."

I didn't say anything. Was Sharpay right? Was I still insecure about what Troy and I had after all this time? Maybe. But I loved Troy and he loved me. What was I so afraid of?

"It's not going to suddenly end, Gabriella," Sharpay said as if voicing my thoughts. "You and Troy, you could be the real deal. Things like that don't just float away."

With that, she slipped a picture frame in my lap. It was one of a framed photo of Troy, she and I. He stood in the middle, his arms wrapped around the both of us. Sharpay and I looked at each other, giggling profusely, while Troy...

Troy was looking at me.

I felt something catch in my throat and the tears will at my eyes. God, I was so stupid.

"I'm so foolish," I muttered and Sharpay rubbed at my back gently.

"Ah, babe, it's okay!" she said, "it's Troy, he'll understand!"

A soft knock was heard at the door and a short boy stood there, looking rather nervous, Sharpay glared.

"Can't you see we are having a moment?" she yelled, "come back later!"

The boy scrambled away nervously and Sharpay scoffed. "Fucking freshmen."

I blinked at her. "Sharpay, he probably needed your help."

"So?" she asked, bluntly. "If he did, he'll come back. Now, tell me, where should I hang my Johnny Depp poster. This is of crucial importance."

---

An hour later, I knocked on Troy's door as best as I could juggling two steaming cups of hot chocolate. The door opened a moment later and he appeared before me, his eyes tired and his hair ruffled and flopping in his face. He frowned when he saw me, sighing loudly and leaning against the door frame, arms folded. I stiffened.

He didn't look happy.

"What do you want?" he asked bitterly and I shivered at his tone of voice. "Making sure I didn't run away?"

"No," I said quietly, "I um, brought hot chocolate."

He stared down at the styrofoam cups in my hands. "It's September. It's boiling hot outside. Why would you get hot chocolate."

My cheeks flushed hotly in embarrassment and I shoved one at him. He accepted it and our fingers brushed. Feeling disheartened and angry, I spun on my heel to leave. "You know what? I came here to apologize and if you're gonna be an asshole, then I'm just going to go."

I felt his smooth fingers grasp my wrist and propel me backwards. "Gabi, wait!" he said quickly and I turned around. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I'm sorry. I just...just come in."

Hesitantly, I stepped into his empty dorm-room. Was it really worth it? Maybe I should just wait until he cooled off further. "You sure?"

He closed the door behind me and nodded. "Yeah."

A beat of silence passed between us and I glanced around the room as Troy set down his hot chocolate on his desk. "It's nice in here. Where's Chad? Zeke?"

"Zeke's running some errands, getting some junk to stock the fridge and Chad..." he rubbed the back of his neck, "he's um, out with Taylor. Guess they get off that...fighting thing."

I felt a smile creep up my face, I couldn't help it and Troy groaned in aggravation, flopping down on his bed. "Don't look so smug, Gabi," he said, annoyed. "Seriously does not suit you."

"Hey!" I protested, "I told you—" I took a deep breath. "That's nice for them."

"Yep," he said shortly, "it is."

Twisting my hands together, I tried to get my bearings. Tried to get a hold on the ground beneath me. "Troy, I..."

He sat up quickly, his eyes fixed on me. "You...? What?"

"I'm sorry!" I said, burying my face in my hands. "I'm sorry I accused you of running away when things got tough! I'm sorry for implying that...that I thought...that..."

"That'd I'd break up with you instead of working through issues," Troy supplied and I nodded. He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. "Gabi, we've been together for almost a year now. A year. That's a really long time for some people."

"I know," I said, peaking through my fingers. "It is."

Troy stood up from his bed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I don't know what I can do to make it more clear to you, to make you understand that I'm not going anywhere."

"Troy—"

"What do you want me to say?" he said sadly, "I love you, Gabriella. I love you. I've never loved anyone in my entire life. You know you're all I think about—half of the music on my iPod reminds me of you. Everything is scary and new, and yeah, there's going to be times when I freak out."

He stepped closer to me, pulling my hands down from my face and bringing his own to cup my jaw. "But that doesn't mean that I don't want to work through whatever happens. That doesn't mean that I'm going to bail on you if we fight. I love you, I want to be with you, I need you. It doesn't get more complicated than that."

"But I'm impulsive!" I said, leaning into his touch, "and I meddle! I'm going to cause drama without even meaning to."

Troy laughed. "And that's okay with me. I love how you meddle, sure it pisses me off, but I still love it. And Gabi, you're absolutely crazy, but that's why I love you so much. Because you're so insane."

"Thanks," I said, rolling my eyes. "What every girl wants to hear."

"Hey, it's the truth," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Just trust me Gabi. After all of this time, trust me."

"I do," I said softly, "I do completely."

"Good," Troy said, "then we'll be alright."

I looked up at him, feeling my heart piece itself back together. "Yeah, we will be."

We kissed then, gently, softly, as if it was the first time all over again. We broke apart for breath a moment later and I rested my forehead against his, looking into his eyes and smiling.

"So," I began, "that was our first fight."

"Looks like it," Troy said with a chuckle. "It sucked."

"It was kind of petty, too," I said diplomatically, reaching up to kiss the freckles on his nose. "Let's never do it again."

Laughing to himself, Troy pulled me over to the bed and dragged me on top of him. "Sounds like a plan," he said, kissing my lips again. "Hey, you know what though?"

"What I asked, feeling his palm graze the back of my thigh.

"Zeke's over at Sharpay's for the night."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is he?" I smirked, "and that means we're all alone in this big room by ourselves?"

He nodded. "What are we going to do?"

I shrugged. "I'm sure we'll think of something."

---

So after a conversation with the lovely Kelly, in which she reminded me of how much I loved TDBU!Troy and I reminisced about how great it was writing this story, I suddenly felt the urge to revisit it one last time. Writing this story was amazing for me. It was the first time I really connected with a plot-line and the characters and you all responded so wonderfully.

It holds a special place in my heart and for the longest time I was certain that I was finished with this story and I think I am. Yet today when I was feeling blue (I'm so sick) Troy and Gabi were like, hey, Diana, let us tell you this story that happened at the beginning of our Sophomore year, we think you'll like it.

And I did. So I wrote it down.

I've been feeling a weird lack of attachment to things I've been writing and somehow, I felt like revisiting this might help me recapture some of the...I don't even know what that I had when writing this. I feel like I did and now I will go on and continue with what I'm working on now. :)

I also noticed there was over 200 people who still had this on their alerts list. So I hope this was a nice surprise.

Also, this is the closest you will ever get to a sequel. Ever. Don't ask for more, I don't have the heart to write it or the heart to not write it.


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